


the stars sighed in unison

by spellboundrose



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Assassination Attempt(s), Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Coming Out, Eventual Smut, Fire Nation (Avatar), Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Fluff and Angst, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Past Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Southern Water Tribe, Stargazing, a truly ridiculous amount of astronomy research went into this fic, background Aang/Katara - Freeform, background mai/ty lee - Freeform, background suki/her best life, but also bc they're idiots, i just think space is neat!, ignoring comic canon except where it benefits me, mentioned bakoda, the stars are sighing bc they're cute and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellboundrose/pseuds/spellboundrose
Summary: For some reason, Zuko can't stop looking at Sokka out of the corner of his eye. It must be something about the way the moonlight reflects off his skin—or maybe how his eyes, such a vibrant shade of blue, glimmer like the stars above them—Oh.Oh, no.(Or, five moments under the night sky and one beneath the sun.)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 67
Kudos: 247
Collections: Zukka Big Bang





	1. Moon

**Author's Note:**

> my offering for this year's Zukka big bang! thanks to @SinTheeUxho for being an incredible beta.
> 
> title comes from the poem "stars" by michael faudet. each chapter is inspired by something space related, so i thought the quote fit perfectly. individual song quotes for each chapter will follow!
> 
> i'll be uploading on a daily basis, so the whole fic will be up soon! 
> 
> find me on tumblr @findthatspacesword :)

_So we spent what was left of our serotonin_

_To chew on our cheeks and stare at the moon_

— Phoebe Bridgers _,_ “Graceland Too”

* * *

Zuko stands in the palace courtyard, flanked by Suki on his right and Ty Lee on his left. They all stare at the sky, waiting.

He sweats in the evening sun—even this early in the year, Caldera City's heat is oppressive, especially in his ceremonial robes and the layers of bandages around his midsection. He can't understand how Suki and Ty Lee haven't melted in the heat.

Still, Zuko refuses to sit or move to the shade. He'd fought his healer, Eiko, into allowing him to greet everyone when they arrived. She'd only agreed with the concession that he rest for the remainder of the day.

It only took _one_ assassin managing to catch him unawares, and suddenly everyone around him was treating Zuko like he was made of porcelain. He couldn't risk looking weak, especially not around the nobles on his council. He and Mai had done their best to weed out Ozai's most fervent supporters since his coronation, but he knows that many of the elite families in the Fire Nation still hold tenuous opinions at best towards his ability to rule. The assassin sent by the pro-Ozai movement confirms it.

Suki and Ty Lee were there when he awoke in the infirmary, his memory hazy, chest wrapped in bandages and a sharp pain in his side. He had apparently been unconscious for almost an entire day.

When Zuko was briefed on his condition, he had insisted on being well enough to return to his duties. Ty Lee had asked him to stand to prove it. He barely managed to sit upright before collapsing back into the cot.

Despite Zuko's protests, Suki canceled all of his formal meetings and events and had only the most urgent matters sent to him. To prevent further attacks, until they had investigated who exactly sent the assassin, they all agreed that it was best to keep the news of the attempt from spreading. Outside of his most trusted advisors and guards, no one was informed of his condition.

Zuko _himself_ certainly did not write about his most recent stabbing in a letter and send it to the four corners of the earth.

"You didn't have to tell them," Zuko says once again through gritted teeth.

"You didn't have to burn down my island," Suki replies without a moment's hesitation.

Zuko merely rolls his eyes. He knows—now—that she doesn't hold it against him anymore, and with the reconstruction efforts that he's fast-tracked and the nearly five years that Suki has spent as his guard, the rejoinder lacks the barb it used to. Still, he feels guilt wash over him at the reminder of his past self, then promptly curses at himself for letting Suki distract him.

"One day, that isn't going to work on me."

"And until that day, I'll keep using it."

"Seriously, Zuko," Ty Lee says, her eyes wide. "You need to take better care of yourself! Even before this, your chi's been all out of whack. Your aura is _grey_!"

She says the word like it's a grave problem.

Zuko shares a glance with Suki, who shrugs.

"She's not wrong. You're hurting, idiot." Suki pokes at where a bandage covers the worst of the wound. Zuko winces, waving off the palace guards who take an uncertain step towards them. "Your friends—and your uncle—all care about you. Don't you think they have a right to know what happened?"

"They don't need to know if I don't want them to."

He means it. He already received a letter from Uncle saying that he was on his way from the Earth Kingdom (along with a transcribed note from Toph saying she was ready to "kick some ass"). He knows that, if not for him, Uncle would be still enjoying his peaceful life in Ba Sing Se, not having to make another long journey just for Zuko.

Suki pokes him again.

"This betrayal will not stand," Zuko informs her once he schools his face back to neutral.

"I was the one who told Mai," Ty Lee pipes up.

"Another betrayal."

He won't admit it, not to Ty Lee at least, but it was...nice, to see Mai again. She arrived at his bedside the day after he woke up, her mouth curved downwards and her eyes full of more emotion than she liked to display.

"Next time you hide something like this from me," she started, her words measured and a knife twirling in her hand, "I will kill you myself. Slowly."

Mai stayed by his side for hours, mostly sitting with him in comfortable silence. She complained that working at the shop and going on adventures with Ty Lee left her with no space to hear herself think, though Zuko could tell she was happy around her family and her girlfriend. He hadn't seen her in a while—he hadn't seen anyone outside the palace in a while—and he didn't realize how much he missed her presence.

The next day, Mai brought him flowers from her aunt's shop (mostly fire lilies, his favorites) and a note reiterating exactly what she'd do to him if he kept anything else from her in the future.

When he gained enough consciousness to read it, he carefully burned the note down to ash lest his caretakers find it. Mai could be quite...descriptive.

He still has the flowers, though.

"Look, Zuko, we all care about you," Suki says, bringing him back to the moment. She sounds sincere enough for someone who possibly caused his stitches to reopen. "And even if we would back down, it's too late to cancel. So suck it up and deal with the support."

"I'd be happy to chi-block you if you'd rather be on the ground!" Ty Lee says cheerfully.

Zuko sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I thought my personal guards were supposed to protect me."

"We're protecting you from being a dumbass. I'd argue that that's the most important part of our job," Suki says.

Zuko manages to remain standing with relative ease and to keep quiet with great difficulty—he knows that Ty Lee is _not_ joking about incapacitating him and he does not need to deal with the political fallout from that—until they spot a white speck in the cloudless sky.

Even before Appa lands in the courtyard, Zuko can see Aang waving wildly from his back. Once the sky-bison touches down, Aang glides down his fur and barrels towards Zuko in a blur of orange and yellow, Katara following at a slightly more measured pace.

"Sifu Hotman!" Aang exclaims, dropping into a traditional Fire Nation bow. He's gotten even taller since the last time Zuko saw him, which feels unfair.

"Avatar Aang. We are blessed by your visit," Zuko says formally, mirroring the gesture. "Greetings, Master Katara."

Zuko bows deeply. He's sure his ministers would be shocked at his break in etiquette—it's one thing for the Fire Lord to bow to the Avatar, but for him to show deference to a mere waterbender from another nation is something that goes against all standards of respect that Zuko was taught. But Katara's saved his life more times than he can count, and showing her respect is worth the lecture he'll have to endure.

"Fire Lord Zuko," Katara says formally, dropping into a bow as well. "We appreciate your welcome."

Dropping the affectation, Katara comes closer, and Zuko tenses, ready to be berated for his lack of self-care. To his relief, she just glares at him before pulling him into a hug.

"I thought the assassination attempts had gone down since Yu Dao, Zuko," she says, sounding exasperated.

"They did, somewhat."

"I can tell you're lying, idiot," she whispers, pulling back to examine his stance. "You're letting me heal you later. You're clearly favoring your left, so I'm guessing it's on the right? Have you been following the healer's instructions?"

"What do you think?" Suki says. They share a glance, and Katara's eyes narrow.

"I can speak for myself, you know."

"Sure you can."

"Really, Zuko, how are you feeling?" Aang asks. His grey eyes look older than his years. "We would have gotten here sooner, but we had to swing by the North to pick up Sokka. Are you still in pain?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Zuko says stiffly.

"He's lying!" Ty Lee says with a smile, breaking protocol to give Aang a hug.

Ty Lee and Aang had formed a strange friendship in the years following the war that Zuko doesn't fully understand. Nevertheless, they always cause chaos when they get together.

Zuko spares a moment to be relieved that Toph wouldn't get there until the next day. He doesn't have the energy to handle another one of their "pranks" at the moment.

While Aang and Ty Lee chat about something—they're on his left, but Zuko still hears snippets of "Minister Reo" and "Momo" and really doesn't want to know more for his own sanity—Zuko watches Sokka climb out of Appa’s saddle, his movements slower than usual.

While Katara, Aang, and Toph were all able to attend the festivities the past summer for the four-year anniversary of Zuko's coronation, Sokka had been too busy working with his tribe on rebuilding to make it. He sent Zuko letters every month, which Zuko still has in a chest in his chambers, but he still hadn't seen Sokka in person since the past spring.

It appears that Sokka changed significantly since then. His hair is still in its ponytail—wolf-tail, Zuko remembers—albeit with the silver glint of new beads. He still wears the bright blue clothing of his tribe, adapted for a more tropical climate, but aside from that Sokka almost looks like a different person.

He’s no longer the gangly boy Zuko had chased around the world. Sokka's shoulders look broader, his jaw sharper, a shadow of stubble on his cheeks. Years doing physical labor in the Southern Water Tribe and training with his sword have clearly added to his lean frame. His arms, bare in his sleeveless tunic, are corded with wiry muscle. Zuko notices new bands of tattoos around his biceps, lines and dots that disappear into the top of his arm guards. Zuko traces them with his eyes before he makes himself look away.

Finally, Sokka reaches the top of the steps, his face set in a solemn mask. For once, Zuko can't read his expression.

He looks older, more mature, less lighthearted and more serious than Zuko remembers.

 _More like a leader,_ Zuko's mind supplies.

"Fire Lord," Sokka bows. When he rises, Zuko realizes just how much taller Sokka has gotten—he has an inch or two on Zuko, now. Zuko has to look up at him to make eye contact.

"Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe." Zuko reaches out his hand, clasping Sokka's forearm as Sokka clasps his in a traditional Water Tribe greeting. "It's good to see you."

"Long time, no see, jerkbender," Sokka says with a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"How have you been?"

"You know how it is. Keeping busy." Sokka shrugs. He squeezes Zuko's arm once before he drops his grip, folding his arms over his chest. "I'd ask how you've been, but it's pretty obvious the answer is 'not good.'"

Sokka draws his eyes over Zuko, his gaze colder than usual. 

Zuko knows what he looks like. Even with his scar, with his mother's nose and in his informal robes, he looks more like his father than he likes to admit. His resemblance to Ozai aside, Zuko is uncomfortably aware of the pallor of his skin due to days in the infirmary and the dark circle under his good eye. He watches as Sokka takes it all in, his blue eyes narrowing as he sees the padding of the bandages on Zuko's right side through the thin fabric of his robe.

"You look like you just came back from the dead," Sokka says at last. He keeps his eyes on Zuko's side.

"Almost."

Sokka doesn't laugh.

"Next time, be more careful," he says, his voice devoid of all humor. That, more than anything, throws Zuko off-balance.

All Zuko does is nod, furrowing his brows.

Something feels off about Sokka. Even when he greets Suki with a hug, his smile seems almost fake. They've all grown older and lost some of the naïveté of their youth—even Aang and Ty Lee, whom Zuko is convinced will never fully grow up. But in Sokka's letters, his sense of humor was never lost, even when he was recounting the most tedious of political happenings in the South Pole.

Zuko can't tell what's wrong, but no one else seems concerned.

"Earth to Zuko." Katara taps his arm. "Are you alright? You're staring into space."

Zuko flushes. He doesn't want to admit to staring at her brother, especially not if he really is alright, but he knows Katara would take any other excuse as a sign of poor health.

"I'm fine."

"Hmm." Katara narrows her eyes as she examines him, her expression disturbingly similar to Sokka's. "We're taking you to the infirmary. Aang, Ty Lee, help me get him over there. You can plan your lemur pranks on Zuko's council later."

To his credit, Aang at least looks a little sheepish. Ty Lee just grins, stepping into place on Zuko's left side.

Zuko sighs. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

"That's the mood, hotman!" Aang says brightly.

The guards open the metal doors to the palace at Zuko's gesture. Embarrassingly, Katara has been to the infirmary enough times that she knows the way, so Zuko follows after her, Aang chattering about their adventures as they walk.

Zuko spares one glance back at Sokka and Suki as they walk. He just barely sees Suki rest a hand on his shoulder and Sokka's terse smile drop before the palace doors close.

He only sees Sokka's expression for a moment, but he looks exhausted, worn well beyond his twenty years. It’s as if the trials of peace have been slowly draining the life out of him.

Zuko knows the feeling.

* * *

After a forced healing session from Katara, all that's left of his injury is a tight feeling on his side and a jagged scar, one of many more to litter his battered body. Katara warns him that he'll likely need at least another day of rest to heal completely, but it's still better than he hoped, and she only gives him a brief lecture while she works on knitting his skin back together. Maybe Suki was right to send for her.

Zuko will never tell them that, though.

Dinner is just like old times, reminiscent of the nights when Zuko would sit around a campfire and watch his friend's antics, albeit in the royal gardens with better food. The older servants are used to the chaos, but Zuko notices Lian, a recent hire, looking shocked at their display. She'll get used to it soon enough.

Toph will be there tomorrow evening, so she'll need to.

Despite the festivity, Sokka still seems oddly quiet. He sits properly on the cushion, which is out of the ordinary enough, and only picks at his food. He throws out a few quips when Aang and Ty Lee begin an acrobatics contest, but doesn't egg them on like usual.

Still, no one other than Zuko seems concerned.

Zuko watches as Suki sits down next to him, her face free of makeup since she's off-duty. Sokka leans into the hand she places on his shoulder. Suki says something quietly enough that Zuko can't hear, and Sokka grins at her like he hasn't all day.

If Zuko didn't know that they'd broken up, he'd think they were still in love. For some reason, the thought sparks a strange sensation in his chest.

He quickly looks away when Ty Lee calls his name, his face flushing. He joins the others in judging the contest, calling out suggestions for tricks and scores as he and Katara cheer them on. Aang pouts when they declare Ty Lee the winner, but once Katara approves, he lets Aang rope him into showing off the Dancing Dragon in consolation. He distracts himself with his friends' antics for the rest of the evening until they all eventually leave for bed.

He's left alone again.

* * *

Zuko bolts upright, gasping, the last vestiges of scattered nightmares echoing through his head.

The dreams were standard—hazy images of Zuko being the one to shoot lightning at Aang in the caverns under Lake Laogai, smirking while Katara screamed; Zuko reaching a flaming hand towards Sokka's face like he was burned all those years ago; Zuko burning down the world by the light of Sozin's comet; reveling in every act of cruelty his ancestors committed; looking at the mirror and seeing his father's face reflected back at him—but no less upsetting.

He's glad that he no longer wakes up screaming, at least. The first few weeks after his coronation, his Kyoshi guards had burst into his chambers nearly every night, ready to attack some unknown assassin only to find Zuko shaking from the weight of his dreams. He doesn't know if he could bear the embarrassment tonight.

From what he can sense, it's still the middle of the night, hours before the sunrise. He feels trapped in his room, jumpy and claustrophobic in the stagnant air. Opening the window doesn’t help the feeling. When it's too much, Zuko throws on a shirt and uses the balcony outside his chambers to climb onto the roof. With the unnecessary increase of guards around the palace and watchtowers surrounding it, Zuko is sure that he'll be fine, but he brings his dao blades anyway. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

He struggles to climb onto the rooftop, wincing as the move stretches his side as he hauls himself up. He knows Eiko—and, worse, Katara—will berate him if he throws off his healing, but he's already aware that Suki will kick his ass for not staying with his personal guards, so he doesn't have much to lose.

For a moment, when Zuko sees a figure sitting at his usual spot above the gardens, he thinks Suki was right to be cautious. He's only in sleep pants and a robe, and with his wound still tense, he's aware the fight would be difficult if the intruder was another bender.

But when he sneaks closer, the telltale flash of blue and the shape of the figure ease his mind, as does the outline of his wolf-tail in the dim light.

Zuko tries to make enough noise to not startle him as he walks over.

"Hey," Zuko says as he eases himself down onto the roof tiles next to Sokka, his voice pitched low.

Sokka briefly looks over, giving him a nod in greeting.

"Hey, jerkbender."

Sokka goes back to looking up at the sky, his expression strangely downtrodden. When he turns, the moonlight glints off of a rod of bone going through the curve of his ear.

"You got another piercing," Zuko blurts out when the silence gets too much.

"This?" Sokka lifts a hand, tapping the rod with his finger. "I got it when I got my last tattoo."

"It looks nice."

Sokka shrugs. He sounds strangely defensive. "It's a symbol, for a successful hunter. It's whale-walrus ivory."

"It suits you."

Sokka doesn't respond.

"I know you were up in the North," Zuko says at last. "How was it up there?"

Sokka shrugs again, still not making eye contact. "It was fine. Prince Hahn is still an ass. It was cold. The usual."

Zuko knows he's not good at this—he's never been great at processing emotions, whether his own or others'—but he can recognize that something's off. In his letters, Sokka seemed content, happy, even. Sokka usually brightens up every room he's in, but now he seems wan and dull.

Zuko watches Sokka stare at the moon and something clicks.

He remembers flying on the war balloon on the way to the Boiling Rock, unsure of how they were going to make it out alive but willing to follow Sokka's half-cooked plans. Sokka mentioned his ex-girlfriend who became the moon spirit during their stilted attempts at conversation. Later, on the shores of Ember Island with the moon a crescent above the sea, Zuko had snuck out of the house full of too many memories to find Sokka already on the beach. Something about the night air and feeling like the world was about to end compelled Zuko to ask about her.

Sokka told him everything.

Zuko was there, on the day of the invasion, and he adds Yue's sacrifice to the list of regrets he'll never be able to atone for.

"I know you miss her," Zuko says quietly. "Is—is there anything I can do?"

Sokka looks at him like he's turned into a badgerfrog. "What do you mean?"

"You're obviously upset about something. I thought since you were up in the North, being around her home..." Zuko gestures towards the moon. "That must have been hard."

" _What_?"

"You've been weird all night!" Zuko catches his temper, lowering his voice back to a murmur like Uncle used to when Zuko was a teenager. "I just wanted to say, if you want to talk about it, you can."

Sokka's eyebrow twitches. He sighs, leaning back against the rooftop.

"It's not Yue, I promise. At least, not really. I mean, it was rough, yeah, but that's—Yue will always be a part of me, and I'll always miss her, but I still see her all the time. I was just talking to her before you showed up."

Zuko frowns. "Then what is it? You've been acting weird since you got here."

Sokka continues to stare at him, his expression unreadable.

Zuko huffs, noticing sparks trail out of his mouth on the exhale. "Is it Suki? I know you broke up a while ago, but you haven't seen her much since then—"

"Spirits, Zuko," Sokka says. He sounds angry, but his eyes are still red-rimmed. "You could have died. You nearly did die, and I wasn't there. I couldn't do anything."

Zuko blinks.

He considers Sokka a friend—after all the chaos of saving the world, Zuko would say all of their band of misfits are his friends—but with his duties in the Fire Nation and Sokka's responsibilities in the South Pole, he hasn't seen Sokka nearly as often as the other people in their group. Sokka makes an effort to stay in touch and Zuko treasures his letters as he does with any of his friends' writings, but he didn't expect _Sokka_ of all people to be the most affected by the news.

"I was fine, Sokka," Zuko says quietly. "Really. My guards caught up to the assassin before anything bad happened."

"You were stabbed, Zuko. In your chest. With a knife." Sokka's voice rises with every sentence.

"On the side of my chest, and it wasn't that deep. He just got lucky. I could have fought him off. I just need to train more and I'll be fine."

"Who's to say the next assassin won't get lucky, too?"

Zuko narrows his eyes. "I've been through worse. I'm not fragile—"

"How am I supposed to believe that you're okay here? In all the letters you sent, you didn't mention any of this. For fuck's sake, Zuko, you sent me a whole page on your economic adviser's plan to tax silk imports, but you can't spare a sentence that your life is in danger nearly every week?"

"I don't have to tell you everything about my life, Sokka. I didn't want you all to worry. I don't need—"

"I can't have another person care about die," Sokka says flatly. Without anger behind his words, Sokka just looks tired, as if he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Zuko sees the same expression whenever he looks in the mirror.

Sokka rubs a hand over his face, breathing deeply before he speaks again.

"I have a plan. I've thought about this a lot on the way over here. Honestly, for a while before that. Hear me out, okay?"

Zuko nods, but Sokka doesn't wait for his response.

"The South Pole feels different. I have all I ever wanted, back when I was younger. My dad’s back. I go hunting with the rest of the warriors. The kids I used to train look up to me. Spirits, Bato even asked for my suggestions on the council’s plan for the new town hall. I should be happy. But there’s just…something missing.

“I’m used to being needed, being the plan guy. I’m too young for the council to really take me seriously, but I know I can do more to help my tribe than just training or hunting or settling the occasional dispute with my dad. I didn’t volunteer to go to the North Pole because I had to get away or anything, but because I wanted to do something useful."

Sokka takes a deep breath at that, turning to meet Zuko's eyes. He has an intensity in his expression that Zuko hasn't seen since they landed at the Boiling Rock, but Sokka's definitely grown up since then. It's the stare of a warrior, not a boy playing one.

Zuko's grown, too. He knows what Sokka is going to ask before he says it.

"So. What you said in your last letter—do you still need a Southern Water Tribe ambassador?"

"I can't pull you away from your tribe, Sokka." As much as Zuko wants him here—wants someone nearby when Uncle is in Ba Sing Se and Suki is back at Kyoshi, when Ty Lee runs off with Mai and Azula still can’t speak to him without trying to hurt him or herself—he won't drag Sokka away from his destiny, from his _home_.

"You wouldn't be." Sokka gestures with his hands as he speaks, his voice rising in volume as he gets going. "Look, I can stay home and help with the rebuilding and fishing and hunting and training and never feel like I’m doing enough to actually help. I can watch my people get screwed over with treaties and trade agreements because there's no one out there advocating for them. I can hear from half a world away that an assassin got lucky because you're an idiot who can't take care of yourself and that the war is starting again."

Zuko's fingers clench. "Sokka, I won't—"

"Zuko, please," Sokka says sharply. He closes his eyes briefly, presses his fingers to his temple.

When he speaks again, his voice is low. Zuko feels a shiver go down his spine.

"Look, there's so much at stake here. It's only been four years since the war ended. I can stay back home, never feeling like I'm doing enough. Or I can actually do something that benefits my people, that helps us and you and the North and even the spirits-damned Earth Kingdom. I know I'm a good strategist; I know that I can help. Here is where I can be the most useful."

Sokka's eyes remain fixed on Zuko's, his icy gaze pinning him in place. Zuko feels his heartbeat hasten but can't bring himself to look away.

He should have trusted Sokka to already look at this through every possible angle. Sokka is still the plan guy, after all, even when their team is scattered across the globe.

"Okay," Zuko finally says. "Should I draft an official letter for Chief Hakoda, or would you rather tell him yourself?"

Sokka's resulting smile is brighter than the moon. "I may have written to my dad that you chose me as your ambassador as soon as I heard from Suki.”

Zuko glares at him, but can't bring himself to feel too irritated.

"And if I didn't agree?"

Sokka shrugs. "It was a strategic guess. Even though you can be a hot-headed jerk, you're a good leader. I knew you'd listen to logic."

Zuko isn't sure whether to focus on the compliment or the insult. He settles for the fond annoyance that Sokka always seems to inspire whenever he's around.

Spirits, Zuko didn't realize how much he'd missed him.

"When can you start, then, Ambassador?"

"I have to say, I like the title." Sokka leans back against the roof, tipping his head up. "I'll need some time to tie up loose strings and talk to the council, make sure everything’s good on their end. Give me a month to set things up and travel back?"

Zuko nods slowly. "That's reasonable. I'll draft up an official agreement in the morning. I should notify Minister Mosu so we can figure out your salary, and we can set up rooms inside the palace for you—"

"We can figure out the details later, man." Sokka nudges Zuko with his shoulder. "I know you'll stay up till the morning working on things otherwise."

"Is that something else Suki told you?"

"No, but the fact that you got stabbed at your desk was a tip-off," Sokka says drily.

Zuko flushes. "Says you. How many nights have you stayed up working on this?"

"Hey!" Sokka pokes him on the shoulder. "Don't bring this back on me. I'm still mad at you, dude. Seriously? Not one mention of all the people out to kill you in all the letters you wrote?"

"None of them got anywhere."

"You are the most self-sacrificing, overly-confident asshole I've ever met."

"You were the one who decided to break into a maximum-security prison on your own at fifteen."

"You came with me!" Sokka throws his hands up. "How about we're both self-sacrificing idiots who don't know when to ask for help, okay?"

Zuko tries to fight a smile. "Fine. But you're worse."

Sokka sputters and shoves his shoulder, just hard enough to jostle him but not enough to put him in danger of falling off the roof.

"See if I come running next time you almost die, jerkbender," he says exasperatedly. He's still smiling, so Zuko figures he's not that upset. Sokka nudges Zuko one more time, then leans back and returns to staring at the moon.

For some reason, Zuko can't stop looking at Sokka out of the corner of his eye. It must be something about the way the moonlight reflects off his skin, the glint of the ivory through his ear, the sharpness of his jaw, the curve of his lips—or maybe how his eyes, still such a vibrant shade of blue in the dim light, glimmer like the stars above them—

_Oh._

Oh, no.


	2. Constellations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg thanks so much to everyone for reading! each and every kudos or comment made me beam <3
> 
> this was one of my favorite chapters to write! i referenced Inuit star lore as well as the legend behind the Japanese festival Tanabata in this chapter—if you’re interested in reading more about either, you can find the sources i used [here](https://www.starlab.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/D.-27.-Inuit-v616.pdf) , [here](http://myguidestuff.com/PDF_Documents/Constellations&Legends.pdf) , and [here.](http://www.japan-suite.com/blog/2014/7/6/tanabata-story-of-two-star-crossed-lovers)
> 
> as always, thanks to @SinTheeUxho for beta reading :)
> 
> tw/cw for mentioned homophobia in the Fire Nation!

_At first I thought you were a constellation..._

_You’re the universe I’m helpless in_

— Sleeping at Last, “Venus”

* * *

It's late.

The moon, barely a crescent at the moment, is high in the sky. The lights of the palace and the city around it have mostly been put out, allowing the stars to shine brightly. Every reasonable person in the caldera is likely asleep.

Zuko sits by the pond in the palace gardens, absently feeding the turtleducklings bits of cabbage.

Sometimes, when the act of ruling a nation in his early twenties and fighting the wrongs of his forefathers gets to be too much and thoughts of his failures haunt his waking moments so much that he cannot sleep, when the weight of the expensive sheets on Zuko's bed becomes oppressive and he feels like he can't breathe, Zuko leaves his chambers to sit at the turtleduck pond under the light of the stars.

Zuko hears footsteps approach and jolts upward, hand reaching for the knife he keeps hidden in his boot—even at the center of the palace, protected by sets of guards and Kyoshi warriors and the nightly patrol, it never pays well to be unprepared—but calms when he sees a flash of blue. He sits back onto the grass as Sokka settles on the ground beside him. 

He looks unfairly attractive with his hair down from his usual wolf-tail, framing his sharp jawline and only emphasizing the blueness of his eyes. Zuko has to look away before his face reveals too much.

Wordlessly, Sokka plucks the last piece of cabbage from Zuko's lap. Zuko shoots him a glare but can't find himself to be that upset about it, especially when a few turtleducks waddle over to Sokka's side.

"You know, these little guys are cute when they're not attacking me," Sokka finally says, tearing the cabbage into thirds to share with the ducklings.

"For the last time, they weren't attacking you, Sokka," Zuko says with a roll of his eyes, though he knows he can't hide the fond smile overtaking his face. "You were the one carrying a year's supply of crackers in your pockets. They were just trying to get your food."

"You don't know that," Sokka replies, gaze narrowed at the duckling that he feeds. "They're master strategists. They lure you in with their cuteness, and then, when you least expect it, they strike!"

He gently pokes the little duckling, which lets out a quiet honk before waddling over to join its siblings at the opposite edge of the pond. Zuko stifles a laugh at Sokka's pout.

With their entertainment gone, Sokka lies down on his back, his bare arms behind his head. He looks perfectly comfortable on the damp grass, but Zuko supposes that years of traveling will do that to a person. He sometimes feels more comfortable here, lying on hard ground beneath the sky, than in his bed adorned with the finest silks the Fire Nation has to offer.

Here, at least, there are no ghosts to haunt his memories.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Zuko asks, lying down beside him. He's sure to keep some space between them.

"Suki told me. But even without her, I would have looked for you here." Sokka shifts to face him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Sokka nods. He doesn't try to push or argue, which Zuko is grateful for. He doesn't know if he could take that, not tonight.

"You know, I've always liked looking at the stars," Sokka says after a moment. "Even when they're different from what they would be back home. It reminds me of when Katara and I were little and every winter Gran Gran would get the whole tribe together around the fire and tell stories about the people and spirits and animals in the sky."

Zuko lets his head sink back onto the grass. He knows Sokka is happy to fill the silence on his own, that his words aren't needed like they are during the day, so he simply listens, tracing patterns in the stars with his eyes.

"I don't remember many of the stories," Sokka continues, gesturing with his hands, "but looking up at the stars—it makes me think of home, you know? From what I can tell, a lot of the Southern Water Tribe names for the constellations are similar in the North, even though they see a different sky in different seasons. Even up there, they helped me remember how to navigate, which, well." Sokka whistles. "When you're out on the ice or on the water at night, you'd better remember how to get back home quickly, or you're polar leopard meat."

Zuko's mind flashes to cold nights on the ship years ago when Uncle taught him how to navigate by starlight. He hadn't wanted to pay attention then, but he was grateful for the knowledge when they were adrift on a raft after the siege of the North, their only chance of survival to continue south. He remembers all the nights he spent staring at the sky until his eyes failed him, days praying to Agni for clear skies, for food, for land—

"Tell me about them?" Zuko asks, interrupting his thoughts. "The constellations. If—if that's okay."

"Sure. See the star right there?" Sokka points up at the sky. Zuko follows his finger with his eyes, noticing a vague grouping of lights in the sky.

"The reddish one is Nanurjuk, the polar bear. The kind of angle-shape around him is a pack of hunting polar-dogs, Qimmiit. In the winter in the North Pole and when it gets dark enough in the summer down South, you can see three more stars chasing after it, but they're not out tonight. The story goes that these three guys—well, there were four, but one dropped his mitten so we call him Kingulliq, which means 'the one behind.' Anyway, these three guys are chasing after the bear forever, and they managed to wound him but not catch him, which is why he's red."

Zuko squints. He can just barely make out one star that looks slightly more orange than the others.

"Gran Gran would always tell me that story when I was little," Sokka says. "I used to forget my mittens all the time, and she'd ask me if I wanted to be like Kingulliq, left behind while the spirits turned the other hunters into stars."

"Did it work?"

Sokka smirks. "Nah. Apparently, I kept forgetting my mittens on purpose for a while. When my dad found out, I told him that it was because I didn't want to be a star. He told me that the stories were just stories and I didn't need to worry about spirits."

Zuko hums. He can picture Sokka as a little kid, running around without mittens with a determined look on his face.

"I guess your skepticism with the Spirit World started young."

"Huh." Sokka rubs a hand over the scruff on his chin. "Actually, I think that's when I started getting into science. Once I learned that stars are just burning balls of gas millions of miles away in space, I stopped worrying so much." He laughs humorlessly, throwing his hands into the air. "But after Yue, who knows? Maybe there is a polar bear in the sky. Weirder things have happened."

Zuko hums again, looking up at the sky with renewed concentration. The stars still look like they always do. If there really are hunters and polar bear spirits up above, they're not showing themselves, at least not to him.

Sokka nudges his side. "Your turn, jerkbender. Any stories you want to share, or is the sun all you fire people care about?"

Zuko rolls his eyes, biting back a retort. Instead, he looks up until he finds the two stars he's looking for.

"Here." He points at the sky, trying to beat back his flush when Sokka moves closer to look. "It's pretty faint, but do you see the kind of fuzzy line of stars stretching across the sky? I don't really know how else to describe it."

"Oh, yeah! We call it the Aviguti, the divider."

Zuko can feel Sokka’s breath on his shoulder. He hopes his shiver can be attributed to the night breeze and hastily continues.

"There are two stars on either side. Here." He gestures back and forth between them. "The story is that the—divider, I guess—is a river. This one star, Princess Orihime, was a seamstress who worked next to it all day. Her father was a spirit of the heavens and introduced her to Hikoboshi, a herder who lived on the other side of the river. Basically, they fell in love at first sight but were so wrapped up in each other that Orihime stopped sewing and Hikoboshi stopped herding cattle. Orihime's father got upset at that and forbade them to ever see each other again."

Sokka whistles. "Rude. Didn't he introduce them?"

Zuko shrugs. "Yeah. The point, though, is that they shouldn't have neglected their duties. Anyway, Orihime begged her father to reconsider. He eventually agreed, as long as she went back to her work, and allowed them to meet once a year on the seventh day of the seventh month. The first year, she had trouble crossing the river, but a flock of magpie-pigeons made a bridge. People say that if it rains, the birds won't come, so on that day people hold a celebration in honor of their love and wish for clear skies so they can meet."

"Are you planning something for the festival, then? It's almost the seventh month."

Zuko shakes his head. "You can imagine—the royal family was never big on celebrating holidays about love. Tanabata stopped being celebrated under Sozin. Mother told me the story anyway, though. Apparently the people outside Caldera, especially in the smaller towns, still hold celebrations for it, whether the Fire Lord approves or not."

"You should bring the festival back."

Zuko’s brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it. Aren't your ministers always on you about _keeping the Fire Nation tradition alive_?" Sokka says the words with an exaggeratedly proper accent. "If you bring an ancient festival back, one celebrating peace and unity rather than war, you can make your old-fashioned ministers happy while bringing the whole nation together. You can even open it up to other nations. I mean, you only have about a month to prepare, so it can be small this year, but you can always make it bigger next year."

Zuko hums, considering.

"That's not...the worst idea."

"Duh," Sokka says, looking pleased with himself. "I only have good ideas."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Hey!"

Zuko laughs, dodging Sokka's shove.

"The things I put up with," Sokka grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest, but Zuko can see that he's smiling. "Before Your Rudeness insulted my ideas, I was going to say you're a good storyteller, Fire Jerk."

Zuko feels his face heat. "Thanks."

"I mean, definite critiques on the story, though," Sokka says. "I get that love makes you do crazy things, but to pull people away from herding cows and sewing? Like, I get duties back home more than anyone—well, besides maybe you—but they're just across a river. It's not like they're continents apart."

"Is that why you and Suki broke up?" Zuko asks quietly. "Because of your duties back home?"

He's never asked before, whether out of a desire to respect Sokka's boundaries or from his heart's selfish need for protection, but something about the night air and their physical proximity makes the question easier.

"No," Sokka sighs, settling back. "At least, not fully. We just drifted apart. A few years after the war, I think we both realized that we loved each other, but weren't _in love_ anymore, which was weird. It definitely hurt when we called it quits, but Suki was right—she's honestly my best friend, and I'll always love her, but I think we're better off not being together."

Zuko nods slowly. "Good. Not—not good that you broke up, I didn't mean—"

Sokka waves his hand dismissively. "Don't worry, I get it. Was it like that with you and Mai?"

Zuko tenses imperceptibly. "Something like that." His voice sounds brittle, even to himself.

Sokka notices, because of course he does. "Sorry, man. I just thought you two were on pretty good terms. She visits a lot. You always relax around her—how anyone can relax around someone with that many knives, I'll never know—but I should have realized you still have feelings for her."

Zuko almost laughs. "It's not that."

Sokka furrows his brow. "Then what is it?"

Zuko swallows. He hasn't had to have this conversation with anyone else, not since he and Mai broke up, and he's not sure how to start.

He knows Sokka is safe, that he doesn't hold the same outdated views that some of his council members do. Sokka was one of the most virulent supporters of repealing Sozin's law banning same-sex relationships. He even pushed so hard for marriages to be recognized that Zuko's last general—minister, he has to remind himself—had finally given in.

Being an opponent of an outdated law and reacting positively to Zuko telling him this are two different things, though.

So gently that Zuko doesn't notice it coming, Sokka reaches out to take hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together. Zuko startles, looking over at him with wide eyes, but Sokka remains staring up at the stars. Zuko doesn't make an effort to pull away.

He hopes the flush on his cheeks is cloaked by the dim light. He wills his face to a neutral expression, leaving their clasped hands resting on the grass between them. He traces the constellations he knows with his eyes, trying not to focus on the fact that his best friend and unrequited crush is holding his hand while Zuko is trying to tell him this.

 _Sokka is physically affectionate with everyone,_ he reminds himself. _This doesn't mean anything._

Perhaps sensing Zuko's inner turmoil, Sokka speaks up, his voice softer.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, you know."

Zuko huffs. "I know." He does—for all of Sokka's prodding and joking and pushing Zuko out of his comfort zone, he's never made Zuko share more than he was able. But he _wants_ to share this, to take the burned cinders of his heart and hand them over to Sokka.

Sokka's hand is warmer than he expected.

It makes things both easier and infinitely harder.

"I don't think I ever really loved Mai," he says quietly, the confession hanging in the night air like smoke. "At least, not in the way I was supposed to. She'll always be my friend, but...I wasn't attracted to her. I—"

He swallows. Zuko is sure that Sokka can tell that his hands are shaking, but Zuko can't bring himself to pull away.

"I don't think I'm attracted to any women," Zuko finally says, just loudly enough for Sokka to hear him.

Sokka squeezes his hand again. Zuko turns to see an easy smile on his face, his eyes shining in the starlight.

"Nice. Are you into men, then, or not really into anyone?"

Zuko blinks. Of all the reactions he's expected, Sokka's casualness wasn't one of them.

"Men," Zuko says eventually.

Sokka nods. "Cool. Thanks for telling me, man."

Zuko looks back up at the stars, his heart still pounding. He allows himself to take a deep breath, settle back down. He feels—lighter, somehow. He lets Sokka's hand in his ground him as he sinks into the grass.

"If it helps, I've slept with dudes before."

Zuko whips his head to the side.

"Oh," he says, the shock obvious in his voice. Sokka raises an eyebrow at him, looking amused.

"That's great. For you. Good for you," Zuko says quickly, his cheeks warming. "I just—I didn't know."

"I mean, it's not something you would write in a letter," Sokka says, his voice taking on the slightly higher pitch he gets when he's defensive. "What would I say, 'Hey buddy, here's what's going on in the Earth Kingdom, oh and by the way, I banged this guy last night in Ba Sing Se, I think he told me his name was Chen—'"

Zuko can't help the laugh that escapes him. Sokka, for his part, stops speaking and grins like he always does when someone laughs at his terrible jokes. His smile could rival the stars.

Zuko turns his eyes back to the sky. He knows that if he looks over at Sokka right now, the expression in his eyes would give him away. Tonight appears to be a night for spilling secrets, but Zuko isn't ready to let this one out yet.

Just because Sokka has apparently been attracted to and _slept with_ men—and Zuko is absolutely _not_ dwelling on that right now—doesn't mean that he finds Zuko attractive like that, let alone that Sokka could ever fall for him.

"How did you know?" Zuko says when the silence grows unbearable. "That you liked both, I mean."

Sokka hums. Zuko doesn't need to look over at him to know that he's giving the question his full concentration. He's sure that Sokka's brows are furrowed, lips pursed, as if he's trying to solve his thoughts like an equation.

"I don't know if there was ever, like, a _moment,"_ he says slowly. "I mean, in the Southern Water Tribe, people like to keep most of their private lives private, but there’s not a stigma or anything against it. It wasn't super common to see two men together, especially once the men left to fight, but I remember seeing men with men and women with women when I was little. I guess that as I got older and started traveling with the group, I noticed people who I was attracted to more. Then when Suki and I broke up and I was traveling around for my tribe before I came here, I had some flings with ladies and some fellas. None of them lasted too long, though.”

Sokka laughs self-consciously before continuing.

“Katara caught me trying to sneak a guy out of my rooms when we were all in Cranefish Town last year. It was _not_ something I needed her to see, and it was tricky to keep that a one-time thing after she invited him over for breakfast, but that was about it."

Sokka shrugs and turns on his side. Zuko resolutely tries to ignore how fast his heart is beating.

"So, no big realization," Sokka says, grinning once again. "I guess I just always thought that women? Hot. Men? Also hot. You know?"

"I mean, not really," Zuko says flatly. He keeps his face carefully blank. "The men part, definitely."

"Oh my spirits, were you trying to make a joke?" Sokka used their joined hands to wipe away an imaginary tear. "I'm so proud, my little Fire Dork is starting to grow up—"

"Shut up," Zuko says, fighting back a smile.

"It was a good effort, but still have much to learn, young one—"

"I'm older than you, dumbass."

Sokka gasps. "Such disrespect! Is this how you treat all your esteemed ambassadors?"

"Only the annoying ones," Zuko says. He doesn't intend for it to sound as affectionate as it does.

Sokka laughs. He either doesn't register how enamored Zuko sounded or chooses to ignore it, which is a small mercy. They settle back down, the garden peaceful other than the cicada-crickets in the trees and the quiet changing of the guard in the palace around them.

"What about you?" Sokka says eventually. "How did you know?"

"Well, it's—it _was—_ different here," Zuko says, careful to keep his voice down. "Those types of feelings were illegal, especially for the Crown Prince who was already a fuck-up. I didn't need another reason for my—for Ozai to hate me."

Sokka squeezes his hand again. "That sounds rough, buddy."

Zuko chuckles humorlessly, picking at the grass with his left hand.

"Yeah. I guess that's why I didn't realize it until I was banished. The sailors who were with us were all disgraced in the eyes of the Fire Nation, in some way or another. They were a little more open about some things, but I...I just couldn't admit it to myself until I finally left the Fire Nation again, because that would have made it real. 

“Then I joined you and Aang and Katara and Toph, and we had a war to end and a Fire Lord to defeat, then I was fighting my sister, then I was crowned the new Fire Lord. I didn't have much time to dwell on who—what gender I was attracted to. Not when it could cause a major political incident."

Zuko drops the blades of grass he picked, resting his hand back on the mossy ground. He's sure the gardeners will be upset with him for tearing up their careful work.

"So you never..." Sokka says.

Zuko looks at him blankly. Sokka nudges him and wiggles his eyebrows—Spirits, _how_ does Zuko find that attractive—to get the point across.

"Oh." Zuko feels his cheeks reddening once more. He hopes, once again, that Yue is merciful, and that the dim moonlight won't let Sokka notice. "I mean, I dated Mai for a while, so it's not like I never kissed anyone. We...didn't do too much more. I don't think either of us were into it."

"Have you ever kissed a guy? You know, someone you're actually attracted to?"

Zuko flushes further.

Sokka gasps. "So there _was_ someone!"

"There was this one guy on the ferry to Ba Sing Se when Uncle and I were refugees. He led this group of vigilantes and roped me into some stuff. He was really intense, and I got swept up in it all. But then he found out that we were firebenders, and, well—you can guess how that ended."

"Wait..." Zuko can practically hear the gears turning in Sokka's head until it finally clicks. Sokka sits upright, dropping Zuko's hand in the process. Zuko steadfastly pushes down his disappointment at that.

"Did you hook up with _Jet_?"

"Yeah," he says, confused at the incredulity in Sokka's voice. "I forgot you knew him too, I guess."

"Jet. The weird vigilante with a boner for fighting firebenders. That Jet."

"If you're going to make things weird—"

"No, no, it's cool! I'm cool!" A myriad of emotions passes over Sokka's face. "It's just—how did that _happen_?"

Zuko crosses his arms defensively, glaring to mask the pang in his chest. He knows that Sokka won't ever see him that way, has made as much peace with that as Zuko will be able to, but the implication that Sokka can't see how someone would want to be with Zuko leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I was an angry teenager with an honor problem. Jet was hot and had ideals and somehow was attracted to me, despite this," Zuko bites out, waving his hand over his scar. "Is it that hard to believe?"

Zuko doesn't intend the words to come out as sharply as they do—he's been working for so long on controlling his temper, he's gotten so much better; he shouldn't be reacting this harshly to a simple comment—but it's too late to take them back. He turns his gaze away from Sokka and looks back up at the sky. He doesn't need to see the look on Sokka's face.

Moments later, he feels a nudge at his side.

"Hey," Sokka says softly. Zuko steels himself and looks back over, an apology ready on his lips, but Sokka merely looks concerned.

"I didn't mean it like that. Seriously, have you seen yourself?" He nudges Zuko again. "You're a catch. Like, you've got the whole golden eyes and dark hair and broodiness that...a lot of people find hot, and you’re somehow still ripped, even with all the paper-pushing you’ve been doing. But more than that—you're a great bender and fighter. You're a fantastic leader, too, when you're not working yourself half to death. I'm just surprised that you and my sister made out with the same jerk."

Zuko is left reeling, both from the knowledge that Jet also had a thing with _Katara_ —which he is _not_ going to think about—and the compliments that Sokka told him as if they were nothing. Is this what Sokka says to all his friends? Would he give Aang the same speech if he were feeling down, or are he and Zuko different? Does Sokka just pity him, or does he really think that? 

Spirits, is Zuko supposed to compliment him back?

While Zuko panics, Sokka reaches out once again, placing his hand on Zuko's shoulder.

"You still with me?"

Zuko shakes himself out of his stupor at the touch.

"Yeah," he says eventually, trying to hide the faint tremble in his voice. "I just can't believe that Katara and I both kissed the same guy."

" _Right_? Don't worry, I won't tell her, but I still think you should say it in your speech at her wedding. Like, 'hey, congrats on your marriage to probably Aang, but boy do I have a story for you!'"

Zuko smiles at that, barely. "I'm sure the assembled dignitaries would love that."

Sokka shrugs. "If they have a problem with it, screw 'em. What are they going to do, fight the Fire Lord at the Avatar's wedding? They wouldn't know what would hit them."

"Toph would have fun with the chaos, at least."

"Oh, man, I can imagine," Sokka laughs. His eyes, now the color of the ocean after a storm, shine in the starlight.

It's only then that Zuko realizes how close to each other they've migrated. He would just have to tip his head up, lean in a bit, and he would know what Sokka's lips feel like against his—

Zuko forces himself to look away, turn his head, eliminate that temptation. He closes his eyes briefly and breathes in like Uncle taught him to years ago, letting his inner fire calm.

He feels the shift as Sokka lies back down, then a hand against his arm as Sokka clasps their hands together once more. Zuko opens his eyes to Sokka looking right at him, a faint smile on his lips.

"Hey, is this okay?"

Zuko nods, not trusting his voice. He interlaces their fingers and Sokka's smile widens before he turns his head, staring at the stars as if he's discovering the secrets of the universe.

They stay looking up at the constellations, hands intertwined, until the early hours of the morning. Sokka finally lets go to get some rest before his meetings, departing with a grin and a wink.

Zuko can feel the phantom touch of Sokka's hand in his for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, if you haven't bared your heart to your crush beneath the starlight while holding their hand and pining, what's the point :)
> 
> i do want to acknowledge that everyone’s coming out story/personal journey of accepting their sexuality is different—what i wrote here was influenced largely by my own experiences being queer in my cultural background, as well as the canon info we have <3
> 
> as always, i'd love to hear what you think! 
> 
> find me on tumblr @findthatspacesword


	3. Meteors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [@spacepuff39](https://spacepuff39.tumblr.com) did some INCREDIBLE art for this chapter! here it is--i am absolutely blown away by it!
> 
> i hope you all enjoy :)
> 
> as always, thanks to [@SinTheeUxho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snymph12) for beta-reading!

_And he’s passing by_

_Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky_

_And he feels like home_

—Taylor Swift, “Long Story Short”

* * *

Zuko can't pin his finger on it, but something's changed.

After the night at the turtleduck pond, Zuko was worried that his crush was too easily read, that Sokka might have figured him out. He'd hoped that Sokka's trip to the Southern Water Tribe would help him tamp his feelings down.

The flutter in his chest only intensified every time Sokka sent him a letter, which was often. The messenger hawks must have gotten tired of covering such distance nearly every week without fail, but he couldn't help but write Sokka back as quickly as he received his notes. He instructed the head of the aviary to give the hawks extra treats in return.

Zuko knows he's no great writer—he's never had much skill with words, though he's definitely better at writing than speaking—but Sokka's letters were expertly crafted. His accompanying ambassadorial correspondence was always formal, but in his letters just for Zuko, he shared everything going on in his tribe: the details of reconstruction, his hunting trips, descriptions of the sea and the city so detailed they made it feel like Zuko was there.

Sokka also included drawings of the tribe now that the reconstruction project was well underway. He'd really improved in his art since the war, though he still felt the urge to add rainbows in nearly every landscape he sent, now swathes of multicolored ink fading beautifully into the parchment. Zuko couldn't help but find it endearing.

Spirits, he's _pathetic_.

And then Sokka came back, new freckles on his nose from the constant summer sun and muscles more defined from the work of his tribe, but with the same easy grin and snarky comments and steady presence.

Zuko's traitorous crush has only increased tenfold since then.

Sokka isn't helping matters. Ever since he returned, he's been insisting on having tea with Zuko when he has a break in his meetings or when Sokka wakes up on the weekends. Zuko usually takes his tea in the mornings along with his morning katas, but he couldn't bring himself to say no. The hour—or longer, when Zuko has time—they spend together is equal parts torture and perfection.

Sparring after has become dangerous in more ways than one—they're fairly evenly matched in strength and skill, but Zuko keeps finding himself distracted by Sokka's focused expression, the glint of his eyes, the way sweat drips down the deep V of his tunic. Still, last time Zuko was able to eke out a victory, pinning Sokka to the ground with a knee over his hips, his dao crossed at Sokka's neck. Sokka just smirked at him, panting. Zuko felt a flush go down his bare chest as he imagined their position in a completely different setting and had to make a hasty retreat.

If only that was the only time Zuko found himself flustered in Sokka's presence.

Sokka's always been physically affectionate with his friends, giving out casual shoulder clasps and the odd hair ruffle as easily as breathing. Now, though, whenever they're alone together, Sokka will drape his arm over Zuko's shoulders or let a hand on his knee linger for a moment too long. He's taken to walking Zuko to his chambers every night, their hands clasped like a secret between them. When they run out of things to talk about or one of them starts yawning, he says something like, "Sleep tight, jerkbender" and winks, leaving Zuko a blushing, awkward mess outside his doors.

Zuko's pretty sure his Kyoshi guards—and new Fire National personal guards, hand-selected by Zuko and Suki and vetted by Toph on one of her visits—are tired of witnessing the display.

The point is, Zuko and Sokka exist in a tenuous moment where Zuko knows he feels something, and thinks Sokka might feel something too if all the handholding is any indication. Sokka isn't bringing anything up, though, even though their morning (or Zuko's early afternoon) tea ritual has become charged with electricity.

Zuko certainly isn't going to be the one to make the next move. Zuko's always been headstrong, always rushed into situations with his fire blazing. He's been wrong before, led astray by his own mind to the point where he didn't know right from wrong and honor from cruelty.

He can't risk losing Sokka over this.

He figures he can take a page out of Sokka's book and be cautious for once, wait until he gathers enough data to make his move.

Zuko being Zuko, they might exist in that tension forever if not for Uncle visiting from Ba Sing Se that week.

After Suki wrote Uncle about that fateful assassination attempt, he'd made a point to visit Zuko every few months. Zuko felt guilty about it at first. After all, Uncle was busy running his dream business, and he shouldn't have to leave that behind out of obligation to his nephew. 

Zuko still needs Uncle's cryptic wisdom and calming presence more than he would like to admit, though.

Uncle must have sensed his guilt, as he still claims that the best way to get gyokuro tea is directly from the source and his seasonal visits to Caldera City are a necessary business trip. Zuko knows full well that he has many trusted suppliers who are more than capable of delivering tea to Ba Sing Se but accepts his excuses just the same.

The evening after Uncle's arrival, they sit together in Zuko's office, sampling Uncle's new blends and playing Pai Sho.

"What do you think of the rooibos blend, nephew?" Uncle asks, capturing one of Zuko's tiles in a smooth move.

Zuko takes another sip, thinking. "It's good. Maybe a touch too fruity. Not my favorite, but not bad." He slides a tile forward, huffing when the move allows Uncle to take two of his tiles easily.

"Perhaps I will adjust the hibiscus, then. I brought more of your favorite jasmine just in case."

"Thank you, Uncle."

Uncle's eyes raise from the board for a moment, widening along with his grin. "Ah, good evening, Ambassador Sokka!" he calls out, raising a hand in a wave.

Zuko turns too quickly to look, his heart pounding like it always does around Sokka these days.

For some reason, Sokka's chosen to wear his nicer robes for his meetings today, the indigo silk hugging his form perfectly. Zuko makes a mental note to thank the palace tailors.

"Iroh!" Sokka exclaims, walking over to give him a hug. "I heard you got in last night. Did you have a bit of a _rocky road_ from the Earth Kingdom?"

Iroh lets out a booming laugh, his hand on his belly. "Slightly more so than I would have liked, but the merchants I traveled with were quite competent. Such nice people, too."

"Glad to hear you got in okay." Sokka looks at the board. "Man, you're getting annihilated, Jerk Lord."

"I know," Zuko grumbles, throwing his hands in the air. He's never mastered the game despite years of playing with Uncle, lacking the focus and the patience to follow the strategy, but Sokka had picked it up annoyingly quickly. He's never beaten Iroh, but Zuko's sure that it's only a matter of time.

Sokka looks down at Zuko's tiles for a moment before moving his white lotus forward, a glint to his eye. Zuko's pretty sure he joined the Order after the war, at least as an initiate—he doesn't know if you have to actually be old to join, or if everyone just is—but it's never been confirmed.

"Why don't you join us, Sokka?" Iroh asks, his smile widening. "I'm sure my nephew would appreciate a break, and this old man would appreciate another opponent."

Sokka smiles apologetically. "Sorry, Iroh, but I shouldn't keep Ambassador Guo waiting. We'll have a rematch later in your visit, yeah?"

He clasps Zuko on the shoulder, leaning in closer to murmur in his right ear. "Meet me on the western balcony after your dinner, yeah? There's something I want to show you."

"It's not another feral owl-cat you're trying to tame, is it?" Zuko asks drily. "I don't have the time to take you down to the healers again."

"How dare you." Sokka pretends to look affronted. "Just for that, I'm not going to save you any of the pastries I got this morning."

Zuko perks up. "The ones from Deng's?"

"Yep, with the lemon curd." Sokka winks as he rushes off. "Don't keep me waiting, jerkbender!"

"See you there," Zuko says, his voice embarrassingly besotted. He tries to control the flush on his face, taking a sip of the cooling tea to calm his nerves.

He doesn't succeed if Uncle's grin is any indication.

"Ah, it seems that congratulations are in order," Uncle says once the door falls closed.

"About what, Uncle?"

"I had wondered when you and Ambassador Sokka would get together."

Zuko chokes on his sip of tea. "What do you—we're not—Ambassador Sokka is a close friend, that is all—"

Uncle's eyes twinkle. He slides his jasmine tile forward, forming another harmony.

"My apologies, Lord Zuko."

Zuko narrows his eyes before he slumps, placing his head in his hands. He feels like a teenager again.

"Am I that obvious?"

Uncle shrugs, sipping at his tea. "Only to one who knows you well, nephew."

Zuko groans. Sokka's always been good at reading him; he can predict Zuko's thoughts and actions with unerring accuracy at times. If Uncle is able to figure him out, Sokka must have as well. 

Why is he not doing something about it, then? Is it that he knows but doesn't feel the same way? Maybe he's just humoring Zuko—Sokka's too good; he wouldn't want to make Zuko uncomfortable, so he's probably just being nice and Zuko's reading everything entirely wrong—

"If I may offer some advice, Lord Zuko," Uncle says while Zuko panics, keeping his gaze on the board. "While building up walls to keep emotions hidden away may appear the safe choice, sometimes it is much more rewarding to bring them out into the daylight. I would be happy to help you sort through them, nephew."

Zuko bites his lip, considering. He so desperately wants someone to talk to about this. He'd tried asking Mai and Ty Lee, and while he trusts them with his life, their advice had been the opposite of helpful. Mai just told him to "stop being a coward and tell him already," and Zuko feels that he would possibly die of embarrassment if he tried any of Ty Lee's flirtation techniques.

Besides, no one knows him better than Uncle.

Before he can stop himself, it all comes pouring out—the night on the roof, Sokka's wit during endless meetings and his compassion after, evenings working together in Zuko's office, nights spent under the stars in the gardens, the letters they'd wrote when Sokka was at the South Pole, all the physical touches and compliments he's been piling on Zuko since then, and worst of all, the feeling of being almost sure his feelings are returned, but being so anxious and afraid of any consequence that he can't make a single move.

"What should I do, Uncle?" Zuko mutters from where his head sits in his hands. "I don't want to lose him."

"Hmm." Uncle sips at his tea calmly, considering the barrage of information Zuko just threw at him. "Friendship is a precious gift, Lord Zuko. Provided there is a stable foundation, for it to turn to love does not diminish its value but make it all the more cherished."

His voice softens. "You are still full of self-doubt, but it is no weakness to love and be loved in return. Fate takes us all along strange pathways, with many crossroads and obstacles along the way. Although crossing this river may appear difficult, unburdening your heart can result in wonderful things on the other side. Unless Ambassador Sokka is a different person than we both know him to be, you will not lose him on this journey. You may find that things are better than you had hoped, not as dangerous as you fear."

Zuko ponders for a moment, Uncle's metaphors floating around his head. The words are encouraging, and if Zuko is interpreting things correctly, Uncle is giving him the nudge that he really needed.

Maybe he should have listened to Mai's advice in the first place.

"Sokka said he had something to show me tonight," Zuko says, flushing. "Maybe—maybe I should tell him how I feel then."

"Good!" Uncle claps his hands, grinning. "I must say, I am glad that you have found someone, nephew. I worried that you would fall into the trap of another political arrangement. While I would, of course, support you no matter what, I am glad you have found someone you truly care for."

"And you don't care that he's a man?" Zuko says quietly, looking up at Uncle out of the corner of his eye. He's never actually told Uncle about his preferences, though he's sure he was less than adept at hiding his dalliance with Jet, and Uncle's proven time and time again that he's nothing like his father.

Zuko still needs to ask.

Uncle looks at him for a long moment. He sets down his tea, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder.

"Of course not, Lord Zuko," he says seriously. "Love wherever found is a precious thing. It should never be prevented by bigotry, no matter the opinions espoused by your ancestors. I am so proud of you, for all that you have done, but especially so for listening to your heart."

Zuko looks down, unable to handle the sincerity in his warm eyes.

"Thank you, Uncle," Zuko says, aware that those few words could never express his gratitude for this man. "I know I don't tell you enough. But—thanks."

Uncle smiles wider, his eyes crinkling. "I love you as well, nephew." He squeezes Zuko's shoulder once before dropping his hand, turning his attention back to the Pai Sho board. "I admit, you could do far worse than Ambassador Sokka. He has grown into quite the strapping young man."

"Yeah," Zuko hums. He can't prevent the smile from appearing on his face. "He really has."

"Ah, to be young and in love," Uncle sighs. "I hope to hear how things go, though not in too much detail! Would you like me to clear your morning meetings, in the event that this night takes a very positive turn?"

" _Uncle_!"

His booming laughter echoes through the room. Zuko puts his face in his hands again, flushing, though he can't help but smile, too.

* * *

Zuko arrives at the balcony just after his dinner, worried about being too early, but Sokka is already there.

Sokka set out two cushions atop a large red blanket on the balcony floor, leaning idly back as he looks up at the sky. He's still in his formal robes, the indigo silk reflecting the dim light of several neatly arranged candles. His hair is down in a dark cascade perfectly framing his sharp jawline. Zuko can't control the flutter in his stomach at the sight.

He notes that Sokka did save him some of the lemon pastries. He even brought some of the soju Zuko drinks on occasion.

Zuko feels the flutter intensify.

"Hey!" Sokka says, brightening up once he notices Zuko. He pats the spot next to him. "Come over here, jerkbender. This is going to be awesome."

"What's the surprise?" Zuko asks, sitting down on the blanket next to him. He won't bring things up just yet—he doesn't want to ruin whatever Sokka's planned—so he'll wait until the right time. He feels goosebumps on his arms, the prickle of a chill from the nerves, but he blames it on the coolness of the night air.

Sokka gestures up at the stars. "Look!"

The balcony they're on is the highest in the palace, towering over the rest of the city but still closed-in by the half-circle of the Caldera. With the moon's light behind them, they're able to view more stars than they usually would in the gardens. Zuko can't believe he's never been here at night before.

"The stars look nice," he says, then cringes. He feels like he's back on the war balloon with Sokka, words awkward and unsure.

Sokka doesn't make fun of him, thank the Spirits. He just leans back on his hands, grinning.

"It's not just the stars! There's a huge meteor shower tonight! Well, technically it's been going on for about a month, but the peak is supposed to be right about now. See, right in that area?"

He points up at the sky, circling an area just above the rim of the caldera. "According to Sage Shyu, we should be able to see around forty meteors an hour. Like—there!"

Zuko spots a pinprick light flash across the sky, a curious purple-gold trail behind it before it winks out of existence.

"I didn't know meteors could look like that." He's seen shooting stars before, of course—with his years on the warship looking for any sign of hope, it was rare to not see one every now and then—but he's never seen any this colorful.

"That one must have made it further into the atmosphere," Sokka says, his voice filled with the enthusiasm it gets when he shares his knowledge. "The meteorite I made Space Sword out of was bright orange before it hit the ground. Most of the meteors we'll see tonight will look green-ish before they burn up."

"It's beautiful." Zuko keeps his eyes trained on the sky in awe, only sneaking occasional looks back over at Sokka.

"I've always liked meteor showers," Sokka says after a peaceful moment. He takes a sip of the soju as two more green-ish stars flash through the sky before passing the bottle over to Zuko. "Back home, Gran Gran said that they were the souls of our forefathers coming down for a visit. We call them _inik—_ sparks, or fire. I guess that's pretty appropriate for you, hothead."

Zuko hums, taking the offered bottle of soju. He doesn't take more than a sip, but the subtle sweetness and the warmth from the alcohol help calm his nerves.

"Even once I learned what the showers actually are, I still think they're awesome," Sokka continues, eyes trained on the sky. "I mean, these tiny bits of comets or the asteroid belt or even the moon get caught up in our gravity, and when they fall, they burst into flame before hitting the earth. It's just—I never really believed in the spirit world stuff, but to know something from so far out in space can come down to earth; that we can watch it enter the atmosphere and literally feel the far-off pieces of the galaxy once they arrive—it makes me feel connected to the rest of the universe, you know?"

Sokka chuckles awkwardly.

“Sorry, that sounded pretty dumb outside of my head." He runs a hand through his hair, his skin reflecting the candlelight and starshine.

Zuko swallows, eyes trained on the motion.

"No, it's not dumb at all," Zuko says once he recovers. "I get it."

He puts down the bottle of soju, leans back as well so that he and Sokka are almost touching. As he looks at the stars, he feels the words he wants to say building up: _I get it, I feel the same; I want to be closer to you, as close as possible, to fall into your gravity like the stars that fall upon our heads. I want to be the thing that makes you feel at home in the universe._

But he doesn't have the skill with words that Sokka commands; he's sure the words would come out stilted and awkward, would change the moment indefinitely, and he doesn't want that.

"When I was little, my mother would tell me to make a wish on shooting stars," he says instead, keeping his eyes trained at the meteors crashing down. "Never in front of Ozai, of course—the royal family wasn't big on wishes and hopes unless they were about victory. I kept wishing, even after I was banished. I guess I still have some hope that my wishes will come true, even though I know they won't."

When he looks over, Sokka is staring at him instead of the stars, a small smile on his face.

Zuko huffs. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Spirits, you're beautiful," Sokka whispers. He reaches a hand up slowly, so slowly Zuko almost doesn't notice him moving, and brushes back a strand of hair that escaped his topknot, tucking it behind his ear.

Zuko swallows, his eyes wide. He feels his hands heat up despite the coolness of the night, his palms sweating.

Sokka inhales slowly as if to give himself strength. His thumb brushes across Zuko's unscarred cheek, his touch so gentle, and Zuko knows that now is his chance.

"Sokka, I—" he starts, just as Sokka opens his mouth.

"I wanted to—"

They both fall silent.

"You go first," Sokka offers, moving his hand to rub at the back of his neck. He's shifted to looking at the moon.

"It's alright." It really is—he doesn't want to make a mess of things, to change the night Sokka planned for the worse.

"Okay." Sokka takes a deep breath. He nods once and turns back to face Zuko, determination in his eyes. "Suki told me I need to be direct and to actually communicate my feelings, so here goes nothing. I like you. In a not-totally-platonic way. Honestly, I've had stupid, gushy, romantic feelings for you for a while now. I might have completely read things wrong, and I don't expect you to say anything back, but I just had to get it off my chest. I totally get it if this makes things weird, or if you need some space—"

"I've had a stupid crush on you since the first night on the roof, Sokka," Zuko interrupts, taking Sokka's hand in his, clinging to it like it's the only thing keeping him tethered. "I didn't think you would—I didn't want to ruin anything. You mean a lot to me."

Sokka squeezes his hand. "You mean a lot to me, too."

Zuko smiles slightly, his pulse hammering. "I really like you. But—I just need you to know—" His words come out stilted, awkward, and he silently curses his lack of a silver tongue.

Sokka squeezes his hand again, his face soft and open. "What is it?"

"I know that I'm not the easiest person to be in a relationship with," he says haltingly. "My ministers probably won't approve if we ever go public, and you—if you'd want to be with me, seriously, we'd probably have to keep it private. Spirits, there are assassination attempts still nearly every month. I won't blame you for not wanting to get involved with that, and I know that I'm not the most...experienced, or anything. So I just wanted to say that if you just want this to be a...casual, or short-term, or one-time thing—" Zuko swallows. "I want you in any way you'll have me."

"Tui and La, Zuko," Sokka says, shaking his head. He looks incredulous, more shocked than Zuko's seen since he read through the Fire Nation primary school curriculum. "This is so not that. I couldn't care less how experienced you are, or if we'll have to hide things, or anything like that. I just want to be with you.

"I want to go on dumb dates with you and hold hands with you in the hallway and kiss you by the turtleduck pond. I want to sit next to you in all your meetings with your stupid ministers and hold you after your long days where things go wrong and celebrate with you on the good days when things go right. I don't care if you want to keep things on the down-low and just tell our friends or if you want to shout it from the rooftops. You're my best friend, jerk. I want to do this right, not just have it be a one-time thing."

"I thought Suki was your best friend," Zuko says lamely. He immediately cringes, the blood rising to his cheeks.

Sokka laughs, but it doesn't feel like he's making fun.

"You can have more than one best friend, Fire Dork," he says after a moment, smiling so wide that his eyes are crinkling. "I just want you to be my boyfriend, too."

Zuko doesn't feel like this is reality. He can't comprehend that everything he's ever wanted since Sokka first came to visit, everything he was sure he could never have, is being presented to him on a silver platter.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, his voice breathy. "I'll be your boyfriend."

Sokka beams. "Great."

"Great," Zuko echoes, feeling the smile overtaking his face.

He hadn't realized it, but they must have been moving closer together, caught up in each other's gravity. He can see every freckle across Sokka's nose, every fleck of silver in his bright eyes.

He watches as Sokka's gaze flickers down to his lips, just for a moment, and his heartbeat quickens.

"So," Sokka says. "I'm going to kiss you now, if that's cool—"

Zuko cuts him off with his lips, bridging the distance between them.

Sokka responds almost immediately, cupping Zuko's chin and tilting his head. Sokka's lips press against his in a kiss so soft and gentle that Zuko thinks for a moment he might be imagining it.

Sokka's lips are warm and slightly chapped, his touch steady and solid and _real_ against Zuko's skin. It's been a long time since Zuko's done this, and he's sure his rustiness must be showing, but can't bring himself to care.

After long moments that feel like years, Sokka pulls back, a proud grin on his face. Zuko feels floaty, almost like he's in a dream, but he keeps his hands where they've landed on Sokka's shoulders.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Sokka says, rubbing his thumb across Zuko's cheek in a gentle caress. His other hand has somehow ended up on Zuko's waist, and it feels so _right_ to hold and be held like this.

"How long?" he says, shocking himself at how raspy his voice sounds.

Sokka laughs, looking somewhat sheepish. "I mean, I've been trying to flirt with you for a few months now. I thought you might like me back the night we stayed out in the gardens, but—"

"You've been flirting this whole time?" Zuko interrupts. He keeps his eyes locked on Sokka's, watching the starlight reflect in his bright eyes.

"I mean, I haven't exactly been subtle," Sokka says, scratching nervously at his head. "I winked at you so much that Minister Reo asked me if I needed to see the physician. I've been holding your hand a lot. Spirits, I even kissed you on the cheek a few nights ago and you just said 'Thanks, buddy!'"

"I panicked!" Zuko feels himself heating, not just from the warmth of the kiss. "I haven't been subtle, either. Eiko brought me into the infirmary earlier this week—she thought I was getting sick by how much I've been blushing."

"Wow. We're both idiots," Sokka says with a laugh. "Suki will be glad. Apparently she and Ty Lee have a betting pool going."

Zuko hums. "Uncle talked me into telling you, this morning. I'm sure he and Toph are up to something, too."

Sokka bursts out laughing at that. "Man, I have no doubts about that. I wouldn't be surprised if we're the last ones to know."

Zuko laughs breathlessly as well, feeling a strange sense of euphoria in his chest. "I wouldn't either."

"Look," Sokka points towards the sky. "Two more."

Zuko gasps when he sees two green-gold shooting stars streak through the sky, one after the other, leaving sparkling trails of light behind before those, too, wink out of existence. He keeps his eyes trained on the sky, his mouth open in awe as more appear briefly, their light ephemeral but dazzling just the same. He's absurdly glad that Sokka brought him here.

"Make a wish," Sokka murmurs, his arms still around Zuko.

Zuko smiles and leans in, watching the stars shine in Sokka's eyes as meteors light up the sky around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing but love for uncle iroh in this house
> 
> i didn't have it in me to drag out the pining too much...at least, not in this fic >:) but don't worry! there's plenty of hurt/comfort up ahead <3


	4. Aurorae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're taking a trip to the SWT! get ready for fluffiness galore and also talking through childhood trauma (bc sokka has been through some sh*t, too!)
> 
> [@spacepuff39](https://spacepuff39.tumblr.com) made another BEAUTIFUL work of art for this chapter!!! check out the cuteness overload!!! 
> 
> [@SinTheeUxho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snymph12) is the incredible beta for this chapter, once again!
> 
> i hope you enjoy :))

_I want auroras and sad prose…_

_And I want you right here_

—Taylor Swift, “The Lakes”

* * *

It's cold.

Zuko doesn't know what else he expected from the Southern Water Tribe this time of year. He supposes he only has himself, and that look in Sokka's ocean-blue eyes, to blame.

Still, Zuko stands outside the entrance to Sokka's igloo, glaring at the setting sun as if it's slighted him personally.

He's bundled up in as many scarves and jackets as he can comfortably wear, topped off with one of Sokka's parkas. Underneath, he's wearing three pairs of socks and one pair of thick leggings underneath his pants, along with two tunics, one of which he stole from his boyfriend. It's slightly too big for him, but it's soft and comforting so Sokka's probably never going to get it back.

He's still somehow freezing.

He somehow forgot about how the lack of sunlight would affect him when he surprised Sokka with this trip. It's late autumn in the Southern Water Tribe now—spring, back in the Fire Nation—but it hardly feels like it. The sun has barely risen all day, making a small half-circle over the horizon before dipping down just after they ate with Sokka’s family. 

Zuko wasn't able to drag himself out of bed until much later than he usually wakes, the energy from his inner fire dulled by the antarctic night. At dinner, he had to make a serious effort to stay awake and aware.

He’s confident that Chief Hakoda and Bato like him well enough. Sokka’s grandmother may have warmed up to him a bit after he made several long apologies for his past behavior. Still, the last thing he wants to do is disrespect them by dozing off during a meal, no matter how dull Pakku’s thoughts on the trade agreements were. 

Now, away from the Chief’s home with the sun already starting to descend into the sea, Zuko’s slowly losing his will to stay awake.

Zuko's not quite sure how he survived his stint during the siege of the North all those years ago, but he supposes that he almost didn't. Even fueled by the rage of his youth and equipped with his breath of fire, he almost froze to death with Aang in the arctic tundra.

Still, he forces himself to take deep breaths, drawing whatever warmth from Agni's rays that he can into his chest. Sokka was so excited when he told Zuko his plans to see the Spirit Lights tonight. Zuko won't let him down.

The whole point of this trip is for Sokka. Agni knows Zuko doesn't have time for a vacation—he barely has time to sleep, despite Sokka's repeated efforts to get him on a better sleep schedule—but Sokka hadn't been home in almost a year, too wrapped up with his duties in the Fire Nation and Cranefish Town and dealing with the North. Chief Hakoda had met with him since then, but Zuko knows that one familial face is different than being back home. When Sokka started talking about missing his grandmother with that faraway, homesick look in his eyes, Zuko would have done anything to make him smile again.

It was certainly a feat to reschedule his meetings for the trip. Uncle was gratefully willing to step in as regent, sparing him from having to deal with his ministers vying for control or for lacking an excuse not to take up Toph's offer to "keep your asshole council in line." As entertaining as that might be, Zuko wouldn't trust her to run a country even if she were a viable political option.

It's only a two-week vacation for Zuko, so he’ll need to go back to Caldera a full month before Sokka, but Sokka's smile when he surprised him with the trip made it worth all the planning involved.

That same dazzling grin is on Sokka's face now as he emerges from the furs of the igloo's entrance. His excitement is practically radiating out of him, flooding the space around him with joy.

Zuko thinks he could do without the warmth of the sun if Sokka keeps looking like that.

Sokka's somehow even more beautiful here than he is back home, his blue eyes sparkling in the golden light and cheeks slightly pink from the cold. He's added blue and red beads to a braid in his wolf-tail and a new set of silver piercings adorn his ears, the silver stud in his nose glinting in the light. He has a large bag at his side, but otherwise wears the typical blues of his homeland. He looks comfortable in the weather, his hood down and parka unfastened.

He takes one look at Zuko and bursts out laughing.

"You look like a pissed off baby otter-penguin!"

"Shut up," Zuko grumbles as Sokka cackles, frowning as his scarf slides down his chin. He resolutely suppresses the urge to move it back into place.

"No, it's cute!" Sokka darts in, pressing a quick kiss to Zuko's lips. He gently rearranges Zuko's scarf around his neck before pulling back, his eyes slowly roving down Zuko's body. "I gotta say, you look good in Water Tribe colors."

Zuko huffs, his cheeks red in a way that he can't totally blame on the antarctic wind.

"I don't know how you can survive the weather down here," he says instead of responding to Sokka's statement. "How am I still cold?"

Sokka just shrugs, taking Zuko's hand in his. The contact between them is the only part of Zuko's body that feels warm.

"You'll get used to it. Now come on; I don't want us to miss the lights."

"Aren't the Spirit Lights out every night?" Zuko asks, keeping close to Sokka as they exit the chief's compound and set off towards the harbor. He's already made the mistake of slipping on stray patches of ice before—there's no need for him to deal with that humiliation again.

" _Almost_ every night, so long as it's not cloudy." Sokka carefully pulls them around a group of children no older than five or six tossing snowballs at each other before continuing. "But I've heard that they're especially strong this season, and I want to make sure we're on the water when they show up. You've seen the lights before, right?"

"A few times," Zuko says, dodging one of the errant snowballs. He waves off the "sorry!" shouted out by one of the kids, ignoring Sokka's laugh. "On the ship, and then at the North Pole. I never paid them much attention, though. I was too worried about surviving and making it home than to think about it."

Sokka looks over at him with his head tilted to the side like a confused polar-dog.

"You never told me how you made it out of the North." 

"I was on a raft, with Uncle," he says shortly. It's not a memory he likes to relive—just another time he led the one person who cared about him close to death's doorstep. "We floated for a few days before landing in the Earth Kingdom."

Sokka nods, his eyebrows pinched together for a moment before he grins.

"That's rough, buddy."

"Asshole." Zuko huffs, but he can't help the twitch of his lips upward. " _Anyway_ , Uncle loved seeing the lights. He said they were the spirits playing."

"Aang would probably agree with him," Sokka says, rolling his eyes. "He keeps going on and on about how the Spirit Lights are stronger because the world's finally in balance. From what I've read and the talks I've had with some of the cooler Sages, the lights are actually caused by solar wind colliding with the elements in our atmosphere. I'd guess there just happens to be a lot of solar activity going on."

Zuko tilts his head, considering. 

"Maybe both can be true."

"Maybe. Weirder things have happened." Sokka squeezes his hand. "In any case, I'm excited to see them with you."

Zuko rolls his eyes.

"Sap," he says, but he can't help but return Sokka's grin.

They pass the icy spires of the town hall and turn onto the main street towards the harbor, passing market stalls crowded with students from the waterbending academy. For the hundredth time, Zuko marvels at how much the town has grown since the war. Once a collection of a few huts and small igloos, the capital now comprises winding streets and laughing townsfolk, the snowy city walls encircling the town like an embrace.

Zuko feels the usual twinge of guilt at the decimation his ancestors had caused, but it's balanced by a spark of pride at what Sokka and his tribe had accomplished. He knows it will take many more years and much more work for the town to become a city as grand as the North Pole. Still, only seven years after the end of the war, the Southern Water Tribe has made huge progress towards recovery. Zuko's glad to be able to see it.

He's especially glad to see it with Sokka at his side, their hands clasped together like young lovers in a storybook.

Zuko would normally be nervous about the touch—they're in public, after all—but no one around them bats an eye.

Sokka had told him before that the South was much more tolerant of relationships like theirs than the Fire Nation, though most people prefer to keep things private. It wasn't until this trip that he had the chance to see it firsthand.

Though he worried, no one in Sokka’s family made any negative comments about the nature of their relationship—Zuko supposes it would be fairly hypocritical if they did, as he knew that Bato and Hakoda quietly got together shortly after the war. In the short time that they’ve been here, Zuko’s seen men with men and women with women and some couples that he doesn't want to make assumptions about walking around in the afternoon sun and holding hands just like he and Sokka are now.

For all intents and purposes, he and Sokka are just one more couple enjoying the evening, not the Fire Lord accompanying the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador on a diplomatic mission. Zuko left his crown back in Sokka's igloo, likely to be packed away until he boards his airship home. He even managed to convince his guards to leave him and Sokka alone for the evening. With his scar concealed by his hair and hood, he doubts anyone can identify him. 

He's inconspicuous here in a way he hasn't been since his time in the Earth Kingdom, and he likes it.

Sokka, on the other hand, seems to know almost everyone on the street, or at least is up to date on the city's gossip.

Zuko tries to stay engaged, nodding at Sokka's explanations of who married whom and which neighbors don't get along but finds himself distracted by the way Sokka gestures as he speaks, his eyes brightening as the sun lowers in the sky. He seems lighter as he walks down the snowy streets, like some of the weight he's been carrying has dropped off his shoulders.

It's only a short walk until they reach the circular walls encasing the town. Sokka waves at the guards at the watchtowers as they exit the compound, shouting hellos when some greet him by name.

Zuko remembers a time when Sokka was the only guard on a sorry excuse for a watchtower, back when a headstrong boy was tasked with protecting what was left of the tribe from imminent dangers. Sometimes he gets flashbacks of the day they met on opposite sides of a war, moments of recollection that slip into his nightmares and daydreams. He gets images of Sokka standing at the ready, warpaint on his face and spear in his hand, the last and only line of defense against the might of an enemy warship.

Even at the time, he admired Sokka's bravery, the readiness at which he made his stand against a well-trained enemy. He saw a familiar spark of defiance in ice-blue eyes up until a boomerang smacked him in the back of the head.

Now, he walks hand-in-hand with Sokka towards the shore where they first met. The boomerang on Sokka's back has saved his life more times than he can count. Zuko would die for him—has nearly died for him, for Katara and Aang, for Suki and Toph, for the nations he once thought were his enemies.

Uncle is right. Destiny is a funny thing.

By the time they reach the docks, the sun is just barely peeking over the horizon. The sky is lit up in orange and red, a contrast to the blue and gold of the antarctic ocean. The snow banks around them and icebergs in the sea sparkle with the sun's last rays.

Other than a group of fishermen unloading the last of their catch, the pier is empty. Sokka leads him around the group with ease and walks towards the end of the docks, moving past the smaller kayaks and fishing boats towards the larger cutter ships.

"Are we taking a warship?" Zuko asks, eyebrow raised. He knows Sokka's an accomplished sailor, even though he's sure some of his stories are embellished, but this seems a little much even for him.

Sokka laughs. "No. As much as it would be a fun reminder of the old days, I'm not taking you ice dodging or anything. We're taking a smaller umiak—I wanted something manageable, but big enough to lie down in."

Zuko's eyebrow raises further. "And you wanted us to be able to lie down because..."

"What—just to see the lights!" Sokka nudges him with his shoulder, dropping an exaggerated wink. "Though if you want to try to rock the boat, I could be talked into it."

"Tempting," Zuko says, "but I know how cold that water is. Any 'rocking' involving me is going to have to happen on land."

"I'll keep that in mind." Sokka stops abruptly, spreading his arms wide. "Here we are!"

Zuko almost missed the boat. It's flatter than the other Water Tribe boats he's seen, almost level with the docks. The sealskin-covered exterior is near twice his height in length. True to Sokka's word, the boat is more than wide enough for both he and Sokka to lie down side-by-side. If this is a smaller umiak, he wonders how big the large ones are.

Sokka steps onto the boat with practiced ease, barely causing the umiak to bob in the water.

"Come on, jerkbender." Sokka holds out his hand to Zuko, and although he's more than capable of boarding on his own, he takes it. He settles into the deck opposite Sokka, tipping his head back to look at the twilight sky. The moon is rising over the ice in front of him, casting a silver glow over the ocean that meets the gold from the last rays of the sun.

Sokka unties the rope linking them to the dock post and reaches for the paddles, pushing off with gentle strokes.

He leads them around the shoreline until they reach a small cove, giant walls of ice behind them and the entire sky ahead. Apart from some splashes of fish in the sea and the distant howling of tiger seals, it's quiet. The water is still, the waves calm. Zuko can feel the salt spray on his face, just as cold as he remembers it, but it feels refreshing rather than chilling.

There are more stars than Zuko remembers seeing in his life visible above, and his good eye, he can even point out the river of stars that separates Orihime and Hikoboshi. The calm waters of the cove act as a mirror, enveloping them in the light of the heavens. It makes him feel both giant, like all the universe is made visible for just his and Sokka's eyes, and cosmically small. It's not a bad feeling, though he feels an odd emotion in his chest. He has no words that can express it, no way to describe his awe at their beautiful inconsequence, so he stays silent.

Sokka is uncharacteristically quiet as well. Once they stop in the middle of the cove, he carefully sets his paddle down. He settles into the space next to Zuko, lying flat on his back on the boat.

"C'mere, babe," Sokka whispers, his arm outstretched. The lights from millions of stars, thousands of galaxies and hundreds of constellations shine through his eyes, echo in the upturn of his lips.

As soon as Zuko settles by his side, Sokka pulls out a blanket from his pack, wrapping it around their bodies as the umiak rocks gently in the water beneath them.

They wait for what could be the space of a heartbeat or the time light takes to travel between the stars and the earth. Despite the cold, in Sokka's arms, with the universe above them and its reflection below, he feels both peaceful and wide awake.

Suddenly, Zuko spots an arc of yellow-green appear in the sky above them, but it disappears in the blink of an eye. He halfway thinks it's just his mind playing a trick on him, wanting to see things that don't exist, before the sky explodes with light above them like a spark into a bonfire.

Waves of green and purple, interspersed with flashes of red and flickers of pink, float above their heads. He doesn't remember the colors being this vibrant; it feels like they glow brighter than a lightning strike, than the crystals under Ba Sing Se, than the Spirits themselves, but there's no sense of danger about them. The lights seem to dance around the ether, the stars glittering in the background like a glorious set piece on the heavenly stage. The flickering colors reflect just as brightly in the waters around them, bathing their boat in an ethereal glow.

The lights remind him of dragonfire, Zuko realizes, his mouth open in awe. There's no gold, but the way that the shimmering colors dance in the sky, how they seem to move with each breath—he feels a deeper connection to it than he thought he would.

He understands why they're called the Spirit Lights now.

Almost instinctively, Zuko unwraps his arm from Sokka's shoulders, raising his hand towards the lights as if he could hold them in the palm of his hand. Instead, he brings a small flame to life where his fingers meet the sky, timing the flickering of light to that of the Southern Lights.

He hears Sokka's inhale next to him and looks over, watching as the same lights cast an otherworldly aura around Sokka's face, caress his sharp jawline and the bridge of his nose and the blue of his eyes in ever-changing hues. Sokka is always beautiful, but like this—he could rival the spirits themselves in his splendor.

Sokka's eyes are fixed on Zuko's fire, a slow smile spreading across his lips. He laughs, rubbing a hand over his eyes before meeting Zuko's, and it sounds like a revelation.

"What?" Zuko whispers. He drops his hand, extinguishing his flame, and settles on his side next to Sokka. Sokka shifts to face him, the umiak tilting just barely beneath them; and oh, this is just as beautiful—the only light in the universe seems to come from Sokka himself.

"I just realized something," Sokka says, his voice dropped to a murmur. He takes a deep inhale as if he's steadying himself, then speaks slowly, as if he's weighing every word.

"I used to be scared of the dark. It was back when I was pretty little, but it was bad. Luckily, it's never, like, _dark_ -dark here unless it's really cloudy or there's a storm or something, so I was fine as long as I was outside. But at night in our hut, I would freak out."

Sokka stops for a moment, biting his lip. His eyes look like they're a world away, lost in the stars around them.

"I don't remember much of my mom," Sokka continues, his eyes still far away. "I get—flashes, sometimes. Like, I remember she had these grey mittens. She liked sea prunes, things like that. But I know that she always made sure to have a lantern in our hut for me in the winter, and when I couldn't sleep, she would take me and Katara out to look at the Spirit Lights. It would always calm me down."

He closes his eyes, breathes deeply. Zuko reaches out for his hand, trying to provide some encouragement.

"And then she died, and I felt like the lights weren't there anymore," Sokka says in a rush. "Like, I remember looking up at the sky, and it was dark—like, actually dark; I remember not seeing the moon or the stars or anything. And I couldn't bear to light another fire, not in the place where she was killed."

Zuko feels his heart pounding in his chest. He can picture Sokka, just a child tottering around in a too-big parka, unable to sleep for fear of the darkness in his home and his sky and his world, no mother there to comfort him. Zuko remembers the confused devastation he felt when his own mother left, the panic he felt around even the smallest spark for months after he was burned.

For a violent moment, he wishes Katara hadn't spared their mother's killer when she had, forgiveness be damned. Zuko dismisses the thought as soon as he processes it—he knows better than most that no amount of revenge would bring her back.

"Anyway," Sokka says, shaking his head quickly as if jolting awake. He looks more grounded than before, his eyes on Zuko rather than the horizon behind him. "After that point, I thought of fire as something that only burns, just combustion that leaves nothing behind. But then you showed up after all those months chasing us, and you and Aang were talking about the dragons—I'm still jealous that you _met dragons_ , by the way—and how fire is life, and warmth, and the sun. And now, with your fire looking like the lights I used to love—I can't help but think that whatever random chance, or _destiny_ , or Spirit world bullshit brought us together, I'm glad you're here with me."

"Sokka—" Zuko starts, but his voice catches in his throat. He can't begin to think of the right words—he’s never been a poet, he's never had the skill with words that Sokka has worked towards over the years.

Sokka laughs without humor, hastily wiping at his eyes. "Sorry—that was way too sappy. Also, sorry for bringing up my dead mom; way to ruin date night—"

"No!" Zuko shouts hastily, the boat rocking as he scrambles to sit upright. "No. You didn't ruin anything. I'm happy—not happy that your mom died, obviously, just—" Zuko huffs, trying to get his words in order. 

He's never been good at this, at expressing emotions—his temper has always gotten the best of him, but other than that, years of being taught to hide who he was, who he cares for, what he wants has left him like this. The emotional scars Ozai (and Azula, once she bought into his teachings) left are just as prominent as the scar on his face, as damaging to his heart as the aftereffects of his sister's lightning.

He wants to push past it, though. Sokka makes it seem so easy, with all his casual touches and romantic declarations and lighthearted teasing.

"I'm happy that you told me," Zuko finally says. "And that you're happy here. I—I love you. I know I don't say it enough."

Sokka smiles at him, his eyes crinkled like he's trying to not laugh. He squeezes Zuko's hand.

"I love you too, jerkbender." He sits up as well, cupping Zuko's cheek and leaning in. The kiss is so slow and gentle that Zuko feels flushed all over. He kisses back harder, more desperately, trying to show all the emotions he can't name with his lips. Sokka smiles into it, his hands sliding around to the back of Zuko's head as the lights shine above. 

"Thanks for coming home with me," Sokka murmurs after they separate, his lips clearly reddened in the multicolored light. "I know it's cold, and my family can be a lot, and Pakku’s annoying, and it's hard for you to clear your schedule and everything. It means a lot."

Zuko swallows. "I'd do anything for you," he says. It comes out embarrassingly sincere, but Sokka practically melts.

"Come here, you giant _dweeb_ ," he says in one breath, reaching out. The boat shifts concerningly beneath them again, but they eventually settle down with Zuko on his back, Sokka's head on his chest as they watch the sky flicker above them.

"We should probably start heading back," Sokka says after a while. "It's late."

He makes no efforts to move.

Sokka's weight on Zuko's chest feels more like home than the palace ever has. Despite the ocean chill, Zuko finally feels warm. He's unable to keep his eyes on anything but Sokka—stray sparks from the heavens caress his brown skin, shining purple-green off his cheekbones and jawline, making the jewelry in his nose and his ears sparkle like stars come to earth. His eyes, half-closed in contentment, shine silver-blue in the light of the moon.

Zuko realizes with sudden certainty that there's nowhere he'd rather be.

"Can we stay here?" he asks, eyes transfixed on Sokka, the lights from the stars and the Spirits ahead of them. "Just a little longer."

Sokka beams, and all the Spirit Lights seem to glow brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched about 50 yt videos about the northern and southern lights for this chapter, and honestly...nature is amazing
> 
> also, i love bakoda and i think it's very important that the world knows
> 
> let me know what ya think! :)


	5. Supernova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the second to last chapter!!! thanks so much to everyone for reading this--it's been lovely to read all of your thoughts! :)
> 
> once again, thanks to the fantastic [@SinTheeUxho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snymph12) for beta-reading! 
> 
> just to warn ya, this is the chapter that earns the explicit rating!!! if you're not in the mood for spiciness, stop reading at the line break after "I might have a few." ;)

_Takes off my crown, throws it to the sky_

_And we are emblazoned_

_As bright lights we’ll thrive_

—Emily and the Woods, “Steal His Heart”

* * *

Zuko sits on the grass of the palace courtyard, waiting for the last fireworks of the seventh Peace Festival to peak over the walls.

To him, the week hasn't felt like much of a celebration. His schedule has been packed with meetings and appearances and galas that lasted from dawn well into the night. It's been a perfect storm of all the things he hates: the need for high court decorum among Caldera's elite, giving long speeches at every function, greeting prostrating well-wishers, dealing with double the guards watching his every move.

Worst of all, whenever Zuko thought he had a moment of peace, the nobles decided it was the perfect time for their thinly-veiled attempts at matchmaking. They've only increased in frequency as he's grown older and more accepted by his citizens, despite his efforts to push back against all talks of marriage and procuring heirs. He's gotten enough practice at politely letting noblewomen down over the years, but he still hates it—especially when his boyfriend's dazzling the crowd and Zuko can't even touch him in public.

At midnight tonight, the festivities for the end of the war—and the anniversary of Zuko's coronation—will finally be over.

For the first time in days, Zuko feels like he can breathe.

Part of it is assuredly the company. His friends are all in one place for the first time in what feels like years. They've all been involved with the festival, and as much as their presence was appreciated at formal events, Zuko missed the opportunity to just be with them.

Now, he sits back, watching his friends act like the children they never got to be. Aang, Ty Lee, and Sokka run around with lit sparklers, dodging the lychee nuts Toph throws at them with unnerving accuracy. Momo flies overhead, snatching fruits out of the air and contributing to the general chaos. Mai, Katara, and Suki lounge on the grass, swapping stories and talking about the potentials of ice blades in combat. Zuko chimes in with his thoughts from time to time, but he's distracted watching his boyfriend.

Sokka _shines_.

He throws his head back laughing as Momo snatches a lychee nut out of Ty Lee's hand, the long line of his neck highlighted by the glint of his bone choker. The beads in his hair and piercings in his ears and nose twinkle like stars. The glow of the sparklers illuminates his warm skin, causes it to gleam like the lanterns in the city streets below. His formal robes are embroidered with threads of gold and silver, forming a pattern that alternately looks like waves or flames depending on how it catches the light. He looks ethereal, like some otherworldly being come down in the shape of a man.

He's beautiful, Zuko thinks, but this is just an irrefutable truth of the universe. The South Pole is cold. Aang is the Avatar. Ozai is cruel. Sokka is beautiful.

Zuko doesn't look away when Sokka meets his eye, letting the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. Sokka smiles back, his eyes gleaming in the low light. He saunters over to Zuko, stopping just where the stone of the pathway meets the grass.

"Enjoying the show?" Sokka asks, gesturing dramatically with the sparkler in his hands. "I got to say, I make a pretty good firebender."

"You put the Avatar himself to shame," Zuko says drily, raising his eyebrow. "Set that down before you hurt yourself."

Sokka scoffs, twirling the sparkler like a circus baton in the air. "Rude. I am a master of my craft."

Evidently, the sparkler doesn't agree. It spins when Sokka tosses it higher in the air, shining like a miniature sun before it crashes back down to the earth. Sokka yelps, jumping out of the way just in time.

Zuko gives him a look.

"On second thought, maybe I'll leave the bending to you," Sokka says sheepishly, bending to pick up the still-sparking stick from where it landed on the stone.

He blows at the flame, frowning when his breath only adds to the sparks. He tries again, his lips slightly pursed and eyes focused, and Zuko can't help the shiver that goes down his spine at his expression. Sokka's face is one of total determination, concentrating on one thing and one thing alone, his eyes narrowed but face soft.

It's the same look that Sokka wears when he has Zuko spread out across their bed, his hands and fingers and mouth working to take him apart piece by piece.

"A little help here, babe?"

Zuko snaps out of his reverie, flushing due to more than just embarrassment. He doesn't move, just reaches out with his inner fire and bends the small flame to his will, leaving the sparkler just a smoking stick in Sokka's hand.

Sokka stares at it, his eyebrows raised, before dropping it carelessly onto the stone. He steps onto the grass, sinking down at Zuko's side.

He keeps his eyes locked on Zuko's as he plucks his half-full cup of wine out of his hand. That expression's still on his face, but it's not focused on the sparkler anymore.

"Get your own," Zuko says, but he's not really annoyed; not when Sokka tips the porcelain back, his throat working as he swallows. When he placed the cup down, a tinge of purple stains his smirking lips.

Spirits, Zuko _wants_ him.

"I know I've said this before," Sokka murmurs, sidling closer, "but it's really hot when you bend."

"Firebender." Zuko leans in, closing his eyes as their noses touch. "You just like that I practice shirtless."

Sokka laughs against his lips, his words like phantom kisses. "I mean, that's definitely part of the appeal. If you're up for it, though, I was thinking we could do more than practice later—"

" _Gross_ , Snoozles!"

Zuko scrambles back quickly, his face heating. For a moment, he forgot that they were in full view of the palace courtyard, with their friends, including Sokka's sister, all around them. He turns his head sheepishly to see Toph lying to his left, her feet planted firmly on the ground and a disgusted look on her face.

"It's not cool to eavesdrop, Toph!" Sokka splutters. Zuko can see the tinge of red blooming across his cheekbones.

Toph scoffs. "It's not eavesdropping when I can hear you from over here. Besides, I wouldn't have needed to—Sparky's heartbeat picked up like a rabaroo in heat. Keep it in your pants, will ya?"

Zuko buries his face in his hands.

Toph, apparently just ramping up, continues, her voice growing louder.

"Seriously, first I have to deal with Sweetness and Twinkletoes acting all gross, now this?" Toph gestures towards him and Sokka. "There's a reason I don't fly on Appa anymore. You don't want to know what these feet have seen."

Zuko silently wishes for another assassination attempt.

"I thought you just don't like flying!" Katara chimes in, sounding affronted.

Toph waves her hand through the air. "Eh. Multiple reasons. I stand by it—Suki's the only one of you with any decency, especially after Sunshine and Knockout over here get wasted."

"That's not what you'd say if you saw her on Kyoshi," Ty Lee sing-songs from where she moved, her legs stretched out over Mai's lap as she juggles lychee nuts in the air. "She and Min Jee are really hitting it off!"

Sokka perks up. "Wait, is Min Jee that awesome girl who makes swords? Do you think she could make me something?"

"Yes, she makes swords. And all our weapons, actually," Suki says, a small smile on her face. "It's a new thing, though. We're taking it slow."

"Good for you, Suki!" Katara says, giving her a high-five. "See, Toph, I bet you'll change your tune when you meet your person. Just you wait."

Toph shrugs. "Eh. I'm more than enough for me. Besides, the thought of acting like you and Aang were on that trip to Ba Sing Se is terrifying. Every night—"

"I don't need to hear it!" Sokka shouts, covering his ears.

"—I just heard non-stop "I love you, sweetie bear" and "baby, you're my forever girl" and so much sugar I nearly—"

She's drowned out by the sound of drums from the city below. The din of cheers swiftly follows, echoing through the caldera.

"Well, would you look at that!" Aang exclaims a bit desperately. "The show's about to start. We should all just sit down and be quiet!"

He extinguishes his sparkler with a wave of his hand, running over to sit on the grass. It's easy to forget he's older than Zuko was when they ended the war—despite his height, with the excitement clear on his face, he still looks so young.

"About time," Toph says, her grin only slightly concerning. "Bring on the explosions!"

"I call red for the first one," Sokka says. He edges closer to Zuko again, wrapping his arm around Zuko's shoulders. Zuko leans into the touch.

"Gold," Mai says, her expression impassive even as the flush of alcohol tints her cheeks.

"You're on!"

The first rocket shoots into the sky with a whistle. It's quiet for a split second, the trail fizzling out into the darkness for just a moment, then the firework explodes in a shell of golden sparks, blooming like a flower in the night sky. The sound hits a half-second later, a loud _crack_ echoing in the air.

Mai's lips twitch. "Pay up."

"I don't understand how you always win," Sokka complains, but he tosses a coin at her nonetheless. "Isn't the order random?"

Toph cackles. "Only you would lose at random guessing, Snoozles."

"You can't even see the colors, Toph!"

"It's still fun to hear you lose."

Sokka makes an annoyed sound. "Now you listen—"

Zuko slips back into the background, smiling as his friends bicker back and forth. It says something, he reflects, that the chaos around him is more relaxing than the tame galas and functions of earlier this week.

The fireworks continue overhead, bursts of sound and neon lights coloring up the night sky. The smell of smoke lingers as the whistling of rockets and glimmer of sparks fill the air. The fireworks masters truly spared no expense, showing off their skills as they bend the light to their whim, creating glowing symbols of the four nations and animals and flowers up above. Zuko stares, slack-jawed, as they bend a red dragon out of the flames, making it dance in the heavens before it dives down towards the city. It explodes into a cloud of golden sparks just before it hits the rooftops to the people's cheers below.

Despite the number of similar shows earlier in the week, Zuko's amazed at the non-stop barrage of light. Looking around, his friends are all in a similar state, appearing somewhat spellbound as they gaze at the heavens.

Sokka meets Zuko's eye again, his skin cast in a multicolored glow. Even in the dim light, his eyes are somehow brighter than the fireworks.

 _"You okay?"_ he mouths. The arm around Zuko gives him a squeeze.

Zuko smiles, resting his head on Sokka's shoulder.

"Perfect," he whispers, and lets himself get lost in the moment.

* * *

The final barrage explodes in a dazzle of sparks, filling the sky with enough light that, for a single moment, it's as bright as under the midday sun. Nothing can last forever, though—not even an admittedly over-the-top fireworks show in the Fire Nation capital. The light swiftly fades, the final _boom_ ringing in Zuko's ear as the people erupt into cheers below.

His friends holler as well, whistling and applauding as the smoke begins to clear. Mai even cracks a smile as Ty Lee does a backflip to celebrate.

They stay for a while, talking aimlessly and snacking on lychee nuts as the night goes on. After some time, Aang begins to yawn, which seems to be the signal for the night's end. Toph somehow manages to punch everyone on the arm before she leaves, which Zuko finds mildly impressive. Aang and Katara say their goodbyes as Ty Lee gives out hugs. They promise to meet up for breakfast at a compromised time—later than Zuko usually eats, but before noon, which Sokka still protests.

Zuko gets a brief moment to talk to Mai about her studies at Caldera University before her girlfriend pulls her away, their cheeks flushed. She seems happy, in her own way. He's glad to see it.

Suki's the last one to leave. She gives Sokka a hug, whispering something that makes him laugh, before doing the same to Zuko.

"Congratulations about Min Jee," he murmurs into her shoulder. "I hope you know—you could have brought her here, if you wanted."

Suki hugs him tighter before she steps back, smiling.

"Like I said, it's new," she says with a shrug. "She wanted to spend the celebrations with her family, and so did I."

"Oh." Zuko can't recall ever hearing about Suki's parents or siblings. He assumed that if she had them, they were lost in the war. "Are you seeing them tomorrow?"

Suki punches his shoulder none too lightly. "You're my family, dumbass."

Zuko blinks. "Oh," he says again, feeling a burst of warmth in his chest. "Same here."

Suki just laughs. She walks into the palace, leaving him and Sokka alone in the courtyard.

Sokka stands at the edge of the palace walls, looking out into the city below. The night breeze ruffles his hair, loose from his wolf tail, causing it to flow like water in the air.

Zuko ends up at his side, nudging Sokka gently with his shoulder.

Sokka turns his head, flashing a grin. "Hey there, jerk." He wraps an arm around Zuko's waist, leaning in closer.

Zuko takes a breath, closing his eyes as he relaxes into the touch. If sitting with his friends earlier was a moment of rest, being here with Sokka, alone but for the palace guards far behind them, feels like coming home.

A popping noise disrupts him, forcing him to open his eyes, looking out at the city below.

"The fireworks are still going," Sokka says with surprise. Sure enough, rockets shoot up from different parts of the city, only flying a short distance into the sky before exploding in showers of sparks. Their colors are more limited, but Zuko still sees some attempts at manipulating the sparks: some bursts of suns and stars, animals and crudely-formed faces appear above the skyline.

"They're not official," Zuko says. "People must have bought some of their own. They're not hard to find."

Sokka hums, tapping at his chin. "If, say, a dashing Southern Water tribesman were to want some of those giant rockets, where would he get them?"

"No."

"It's a purely hypothetical situation!"

Zuko narrows his eyes. "I'm not having you blast another hole in your office wall, Sokka."

"That was a completely different experiment!" Sokka defends. "Toph was able to fix it."

"And yet, my answer is still no."

Sokka sighs, knocking his head against Zuko's. "Fine. It'll be more fun to make them myself, anyway."

Another firework bursts below, turning first into a blob, then a strange shape.

Zuko tilts his head, looking at it. "Is that supposed to be Appa?"

"Huh. I guess I see it." The blob dances in the sky, flying around in circles, before it disappears in a poof. "How do they get them to move?"

Zuko shrugs one shoulder, trying not to jostle him. "Fireworks are still fire. Benders like to show off."

"You don't say."

Zuko jostles him on purpose. Sokka just laughs, pressing a kiss to Zuko's head, right in front of his crown.

More fireworks set off, flying around the air or exploding into simple bursts of color. Zuko doesn't remember this many people celebrating in...well, in ever, he supposes. After the war, the celebrations were small in scale, pushed aside to respect all the work that had to be done.

Even in Zuko's youth, celebrations in the royal city were restricted to the triumphs of the imperial family. Under Sozin and Azulon, festivals for the Spirits and for Agni dwindled as celebrations of the war efforts increased. When he was young, few firebenders were left behind to bend fireworks for their families, even here.

It's hard to believe that it's been so little time since his people were brought back from the front, battered inside and out. Agni, it's only been seven years from the end of the war, eight since Zuko would have considered the man next to him an enemy.

The memory sobers his enthusiasm. Every year, he's proud of the choices he's made; so glad to consider Aang and Katara and Toph and Suki as his friends, overjoyed to have Sokka be more than that. Still, the time reminds him of his father, shooting lightning at the son he never wanted; Azula, chained to a sewer grate, screaming flames while the remnants of her electricity rendered Zuko half-conscious; Uncle, left behind in the caverns under Lake Laogai, then resting in a prison cell because of Zuko's choice; years spent attacking innocents and setting fire to whatever Zuko thought was in his way that creep into his nightmares so much he can't tell what's a dream and what's a memory.

Then he remembers days serving tea in the quiet of Ba Sing Se, nights by the fire while his friends laughed at his poorly-attempted jokes. He thinks of the Boiling Rock, the light of the moon on the beach on Ember Island, the warmth of Uncle's forgiveness. He remembers the feeling of triumph when he awoke to a new era, all his friends safe by his bedside, the near-hysterical laughter they fell into once they saw each other.

He's not sure which memories stand out more.

Sokka must notice his change of mood. He takes hold of Zuko's hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Hey. A copper coin for your thoughts?"

Zuko takes a deep breath, letting the tension in his body release with his exhale. He squeezes Sokka's hand.

"Every festival, I can't believe that it's been so many years since the war," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "It feels like a lifetime ago, and also like it was just yesterday. It's—it's just a lot."

Sokka laughs without much humor. "Yeah. I get it, babe. Tui and La, if someone told me eight years ago that I was dating the Fire Lord and living in the Fire Nation for half the year, I'd never have believed them. But when I look at you, and look at me, and look at literally everyone around us—we've all changed so much."

"The world has, too," Zuko murmurs. "A celebration for peace—I couldn't have imagined it when I was a kid. I wouldn't have _wanted_ it, back then."

Zuko shakes his head. "I was so messed up. Spirits, _everything_ was so messed up back then, and barely any time has passed. I just—" he pauses for a moment, contemplating the words on his tongue.

"Some days," he whispers, "I feel like we're just trying to build a new world out of ashes."

It's quiet for a long moment, the popping sounds of firecrackers the only noise around them. Sokka runs his thumb along the back of Zuko's hand, the touch comforting.

"Did I ever tell you how stars explode?" Sokka asks eventually, his tone serious.

Zuko blinks. He shakes his head slowly, his brow furrowed.

"It's called a supernova," Sokka says, standing up straighter, still watching over the walls. "I read about it a while ago, in an Earth Kingdom library. The theory is that when some stars get too old and massive, their core runs out of fuel and can't come up with any more energy. The core just collapses in on itself and that collapse causes a huge explosion—" Sokka spreads his arms wide— "of stardust throughout space. Some are so massive that you'd be able to even see the light in the daytime."

Zuko tilts his head, looking back up at the few stars visible in the light of the fireworks. He doesn't know how much he likes the idea that any of the stars he's so used to viewing, either with or without Sokka, could explode before his eyes.

"Does it happen to every star?" he asks quietly.

Sokka shakes his head.

"Most stars aren't old or massive enough to explode. The only supernova that's been recorded was a little over a hundred years ago by some astronomer living in a village near Omashu—he theorized that it was actually a pair of binary stars, which is super interesting. There aren't a ton of candidates. One of them is that star, the one a little below and to the left of—Orihime, you said?"

Zuko nods. He follows Sokka's finger with his eyes, locating the star.

"It won't be gone for a million years or so, babe," Sokka says. "We'll still have plenty of time to look at it."

Zuko keeps his eyes on the star. A million years—the timeframe is strangely comforting for how small it makes him feel.

"Anyway, that's not my point," Sokka continues, his voice speeding up. "When stars explode into a supernova, the dust they scatter throughout space becomes like a nursery for new stars, for galaxies and solar systems and planets. I read this theory that everything in the universe, down to each little drop of water, is made of that stardust—every part of us, too."

Zuko furrows his brows again. It's somehow a nice idea, but it sounds like one of Uncle's stories and leaves him just as confused.

"I think I'm still missing the point."

Sokka nudges his side. "The _point_ , oh impatient one, is that when stars explode and all that's left of them is dust, they don't just disappear. They provide the building blocks for new things—for a whole new world."

Sokka turns to face him then, shrugging. "So yeah, the world was fucked up. It still is. But we ended the war. We've been working our asses off since then to make things better. I've seen you spend every day trying to figure out what's best for your people, what you have to do to make things right with the world. That's one of the things I love about you. That's what people are celebrating."

"Sokka..." Zuko keeps his eyes locked on Sokka's, gold on blue. He feels a sudden well of emotion in his chest—it feels cosmically unfair that someone can be so smart and kind and charismatic and beautiful.

Insecurity starts to creep in, thoughts of how Sokka's _too_ _good_ to be here with Zuko; that he could have anyone, but he's stuck with someone scarred inside and out. Ozai's words linger in his heart, whispering about his inferiority, his unworthiness.

But he's spent years trying to tear down that thinking—years of letters to Azula, processing their youth and watching her progress grow; of long talks with Uncle in Ba Sing Se; of visits with his mother and Noren, playing games with Kiyi that he never got to as a child. He's had countless nights like this, with his friends and Sokka at his side, the warmth of their friendship a soft contrast to the burns of his past.

"All of this is thanks to you too, you know," Zuko says instead. "You've worked so hard for your tribe, for Cranefish Town, for my country...you're going to make an amazing chief one day."

Sokka shrugs, a tinge of red just barely visible on his cheeks. "Eh. I am pretty great."

Zuko raises an eyebrow, long familiar with Sokka's faux arrogance. He's not the only one in this relationship with insecurities.

"You really are," Zuko insists, leaning in to press brief kisses to his cheeks, his lips. Sokka tries to deepen the kiss, but Zuko pulls back to look him in the eye, his voice firm. "No one else has your mind, Sokka, let alone your kindness, your integrity. I'm so lucky to have you by my side. You're the best thing that's happened to me."

Sokka smiles, his eyes slightly watery. "I'm in it for the long haul, babe. From now until you get sick of me."

"Never," Zuko breathes. "Not until the last star dies."

He leans in again, wrapping his arms around Sokka's neck to pull him closer as their lips meet. It's slow, and gentle, and _perfect_ ; then Sokka tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and Zuko can't help the thrum of heat in his veins.

Sokka's lips are slightly chapped. Zuko nips at his bottom lip before sucking at it lightly, the syrupy-sweet taste of lychee juice lingering on his tongue. 

Sokka pulls back after a short time, his face contemplative.

"Okay, maybe Toph was right about us being gross."

"Toph's not here right now," Zuko hints. He feels a little hazy, lost in the sea of Sokka's eyes, the warmth of his touch. "Neither is anyone else."

Sokka picks up on his hint, smiling.

"It is the last night of the festival," he hums, tipping up Zuko's chin. "Any thoughts on how to celebrate?"

"You're the plan guy," Zuko says with a smirk, leaning closer. "I'm sure you have some ideas."

Sokka grins wider, his teeth glinting in the low light.

"I might have a few."

* * *

Zuko’s on him as soon as the door to his chambers slams shut. He presses Sokka back against the dark wood, hands hovering over his broad shoulders. 

"Someone’s excited," Sokka teases, his smile like the flash of a meteor in the sky. He's a _vision_ , like some spirit from the heavens come down to earth, his eyes shining like the moon on dark waters. His skin gleams copper under the torchlight. The beads in his hair, down from his wolf tail, sparkle like stars. 

"Shut up," Zuko murmurs, his voice low. He draws his hands down Sokka’s bare arms, feeling the warmth of his skin, the imprints of his tattoos and raised lines of old scars along the muscles of his biceps. 

Sokka smiles wider.

"I didn't say I was complaining."

He reaches out for Zuko's waist, pulling them flush against each other. His lips hover over Zuko's for a moment, just a hair's breadth apart, but Zuko's had enough of waiting.

He pulls Sokka down into a heated kiss, his lips impatient and searching. Sokka kisses back just as intensely, tilting his head to the side, his hands roving. Zuko can't help the sound he makes when Sokka slides his hand down to grip Zuko's ass. The sudden jolt of arousal makes his inner fire flare up, his skin heating before he gets it under control.

He feels more than hears Sokka laugh against his lips. 

"Hot," Sokka jokes between kisses, his other hand rubbing circles into Zuko's hip.

Zuko groans more at the pun than at the feeling. He pushes Sokka more firmly against the wall in return, nudging his thigh between Sokka's legs. He makes the sound again, louder, when Sokka rolls his hips while kneading at Zuko's ass, the pressure tight and _perfect._

Zuko's kisses grow harder, messier. He can feel his body trembling with energy, a flush spreading down his chest. He’s already halfway gone, lost in the feeling of Sokka’s hands on him, the heat of his cock against Zuko’s thigh. He’s only had half a glass of wine, but he feels a little unmoored, caught up in Sokka’s gravity.

Zuko knows he has a habit of getting worked up quickly—he could blame it on the literal fire in his veins, or how intoxicating Sokka can be, or a symptom of his relative inexperience with things that make him feel good.

But focusing on the last explanation would take tonight down a different path, one involving a lot more tears and long conversations than he has patience for. Tonight, he really just wants to get fucked.

Zuko breaks the kiss, panting. He turns his head to kiss the side of Sokka’s neck, sucking a mark into his pulse point as he grinds against Sokka’s thigh.

“Fuck, babe,” Sokka says with feeling. He tightens his hand on Zuko’s ass, his head tilting to the side to give him more room. “You’re so hot like this—I don’t know how I got so lucky—”

Zuko bites at the side of his neck, a rush of pride bursting in his chest when Sokka groans. His hips snap forward against Zuko’s thigh, the pressure increasing as he ruts down. Zuko gasps.

Suddenly, it’s absolutely necessary that he feels Sokka against him, skin to skin. He forces himself to take a step back, his hands shaking.

Sokka’s eyes meet his. His pupils are blown out, eyes as dark as the sky after sundown.

“You okay?”

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Zuko says, his voice thick with arousal. He draws his hands down Sokka’s chest, searching for the whalebone clasps of his tunic. The clasps open under his practiced hands, and Zuko tugs at the fabric impatiently, mapping the skin that’s revealed.

“You’re literally wearing four layers,” Sokka says drily. Still, he helps Zuko push the tunic off his shoulders, the fabric a rumpled sea of blue in the red-gold room. 

Sokka reaches out for the knotted sash at Zuko’s waist, unwrapping the red silk and dropping it on the floor. Zuko hastens to pull off his ceremonial tunics one by one, tossing them in a careless heap. His boots quickly join the pile.

Zuko's definitely disrespecting his ancestors by caring so little for the traditional emblems and festival clothing, but given that his most recent ancestors would be even more horrified by what he's doing now, he doesn't care.

Once he’s down to just his pants, he takes a step forward, but Sokka stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait a second, babe.” In a sharp contrast to their heated kisses, Sokka slowly reaches up, gently undoing the pin holding Zuko’s crown in place. He works the gold emblem carefully out of Zuko’s half-topknot, tossing it carelessly to the side, leaving the metal to clatter to the floor. Zuko’s hair drops down around his face in an inky curtain. Sokka gently brushes it behind his ears. His expression is almost unbearably tender, his face soft and open.

Zuko wants to _devour_ him.

He crashes into Sokka like a meteor to the earth, his hands roaming over Sokka’s chest, tracing the scars from his training and the ripples of his muscles. Sokka smiles into the kiss, tugging at Zuko’s hair, his hands caressing the planes of his stomach, stroking gently around the ridges of his lightning scar. Zuko can feel his pants grow tighter, Sokka’s answering heat against his thigh.

“I want you in my mouth,” Zuko says when he breaks away, his filter long gone, lost in the rush of desire in his bloodstream. “Let me blow you?”

Sokka’s eyes widen, the blue of his iris darkening. “Yep. Yes, you can definitely do that. Do you want to move to the bed, or—“

Zuko sinks smoothly to his knees, pinning Sokka's hips to the wall with his hands.

“Or here’s fine,” Sokka says, voice sounding a bit strangled. 

Zuko presses burning kisses to the vee of Sokka’s hips, swiftly undoing the laces to his fur-trimmed pants. He tugs them down Sokka’s thighs, leaving him just in his white sarashi. The outline of his cock is clearly visible, wetness staining the fabric darker by the crown. Zuko feels his mouth water. He tips his head forward, mouthing at the outline through the fabric.

“Tease,” Sokka mutters, yelping when Zuko bites the jut of his hipbone in retaliation.

Zuko pulls the sarashi down slowly, taking in the sight. Sokka’s gorgeous, his cock standing proud from a patch of dark curls, moisture beading at the uncut head. He takes it in his hand, feeling the familiar weight of it as he strokes the shaft, peels back the foreskin with his fingers. He licks his lips, smiling when Sokka groans, and presses a kiss to the crown.

Sokka makes another strangled sound then, tangling his hands in Zuko’s hair. 

“You’re going to kill me.” 

“You’ll live,” Zuko says wryly, and takes him in.

He’s always liked this—the weight of Sokka’s cock in his mouth, the taste of him on his tongue, the way Sokka reacts to his every movement. He can feel the tension in Sokka’s hips under Zuko’s hand, trying to keep from thrusting forward when Zuko sucks hard at the crown, licks at the underside of the shaft. He especially likes how Sokka looks at him like he’s the center of the universe, his lips kiss-reddened and a tinge of red high on his cheekbones.

Sokka smiles when Zuko meets his eyes. He keeps his fingers in Zuko's hair, not pulling, just gently rubbing at his scalp in a way that's somehow both calming and making Zuko feel like he's boiling up.

“Sweet Tui, babe,” Sokka sighs when Zuko drops down, his fist wrapped around what he can’t reach with his mouth. “I thought about this all week. Do you know how hot you look in your dumb Fire Lord outfits? Especially in those gold robes, showing off your shoulders—Spirits, I thought I was looking at the sun.”

Zuko pulls off with a pop, pressing kisses to Sokka’s hips as he strokes him. 

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for formalwear,” he says, his voice raspier than usual. He ducks down, mouthing at Sokka’s balls, before taking him back in his mouth.

“I have a thing for _you_ in formalwear,” Sokka agrees. “Fuck, you have no idea how much I wanted to just pull you aside after our meetings, run over to your office and just take you apart.”

Zuko moans around his mouthful. “Next time,” he says when he takes a moment to breathe.

After a short time—Zuko’s jaw is starting to ache, but the stream of praises falling from Sokka’s lips makes it more than worth it—Sokka tugs at his hair, his voice taking on a more urgent cadence.

“Shit, babe,” Sokka hisses, cursing again when Zuko sucks harder. " _Zuko_. If you want me to be up for anything else tonight, you have to stop."

Zuko draws back, unable to resist licking off the glistening drop of precum beading at his slit before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He lets Sokka pull him up, kissing him messily, desperately. He backs Zuko towards the bed, pausing to hop out of his pants, leaving them to fall in a pile on the floor.

Zuko follows his lead. He undoes the clasps to his pants, pulling them off along with his pants, and shoves Sokka back onto the bed.

Sokka falls back with a laugh, spread out atop the coverlet. He’s beautiful, like a figure from Zuko's wildest imaginations, all corded muscle and long limbs, his eyes shining like starlight.

“You coming, babe?” Sokka teases, crossing his hands behind his head. 

Zuko snaps out of his reverie. He crawls onto the bed, straddling Sokka’s hips, and ducks down to kiss him hard and slow. Sokka traces his hand down Zuko’s back, pulling him closer, rolling his hips up against Zuko’s.

“How do you want to do this tonight?” Sokka asks just a breath away from Zuko’s face, his eyes tracing up and down Zuko’s body as they grind against each other. “Up to you, babe.”

Zuko shivers when they come together, his cock hard against Sokka’s. He pretends to consider the question, his hands tracing the slight roughness of the tattoos against his arm.

“I thought you were the one with a plan.”

Sokka smiles playfully, running a hand up Zuko’s chest to tweak his nipple. 

“My plan is literally anything you want, babe. Really. I’m up for whatever.”

Sokka rolls his hips up as he speaks, which feels unfair. Zuko’s breath hitches.

“Like this,” Zuko says quickly. He leans down for a filthy kiss, biting carefully at Sokka’s neck. “I want to ride you.”

“Yeah, whatever you want,” Sokka echoes, sounding a little dazed. He quickly reaches out for the nightstand, rummaging in the drawer for the jar of oil, finally pulling it out with an _aha!_ He kisses Zuko again, hot and searching, his lips and tongue driving all thoughts from Zuko’s mind.

Zuko dimly registers the sound of the jar opening, then Sokka trails oiled fingers down his back, rubbing gently at his rim. Zuko sighs into his mouth at the feeling. His anticipation builds as Sokka slips his finger in slowly, up to the first knuckle. Zuko exhales, getting used to the feeling as Sokka pushes in and out, pressing against his walls. 

As much as he appreciates Sokka’s careful touch, he’s far too gone for anything slow.

“Hurry up,” Zuko huffs, arching his back into the touch. “I can take another.”

“You're bossy tonight," Sokka murmurs, his voice teasing. He tweaks Zuko's nipple, but follows his request, sliding in a second finger.

Zuko pushes back impatiently, hissing at the burn of the stretch. 

“You’re doing so well, babe; always so good for me,” Sokka murmurs, stroking up his thighs. He starts to scissor his fingers apart, so slowly and deliberately that Zuko can hardly bear it.

Zuko jolts when he twists them upwards, crooking his knuckles. He makes a sound low in his throat—Sokka’s fingers are clever, rubbing circles in just the right spot, and Zuko feels on fire down to his _bones_.

Sokka adds another finger without prompting. Zuko groans, rocking back against the new stretch, rocking forward to grind his cock against Sokka's. He feels syrupy and hazy, lost in his pleasure.

“Okay. Okay, I’m ready; hurry _up_ ,” Zuko chokes out after what feels like an eternity. He tosses his head back, feeling his cock twitch as Sokka rubs at him, arching into the feeling.

“Tui and _La_ ,” Sokka breathes out. He eases his fingers out slowly, and Zuko hisses at the sudden feeling of hollowness.

Zuko reaches out for the oil, his hands shaking. He spreads it over Sokka’s cock quickly, impatient as always. He braces his other hand against Sokka’s shoulders, adjusting his grip and finally sinking down. He feels spread open, split apart, his body slowly yielding to gravity. He lets out a shuddering sigh at the burn of the stretch, stopping for a moment to adjust.

“Breathe, babe,” Sokka reminds him. He wraps a hand around Zuko’s cock, stroking loosely. “Shit, you’re so tight. You’re doing so good for me, just relax…”

Zuko forces himself to take a breath, the air feeling heavy in his lungs. It always takes him longer to get used to the feeling than he would like, no matter how much he wants this. Sokka continues to whisper praises, peppering the arm on Sokka's shoulders with kisses. Finally, the burn eases, and Zuko sinks down more, all the way, until he can feel Sokka’s hips firmly against him.

Zuko sits back, resting his hands on Sokka’s chest. He circles his hips experimentally, mouth dropping open at the stretch.

“Fuck,” Sokka curses, smoothing his hands up and down Zuko’s side as he rolls his hips. “I wish you could see yourself like this, babe. You put all the stars to shame.”

“ _Sokka—_ ” Zuko pants. He rises up to his knees and drops back down, the fire in his stomach turning into an inferno. He leans back further, moving his hands back to rest on Sokka’s thighs, careful to avoid his bad knee. He sees stars when the angle changes, fireworks bursting to life in his eyes as he moves.

“You’re taking me so well, babe,” Sokka says, “You’re always so good for me, so hot, _Spirits_ —” He makes a low sound, hands clutching tighter at Zuko’s hips. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Talk to me. Is this good for you?”

“So good,” Zuko echoes. He feels sex-drunk, dizzy as he chases his pleasure, each downward thrust hitting just perfectly. He's spent years training his body for battle, decades relishing the burn of his katas every morning, but he never expected that training to apply towards pleasure rather than war. He feels his legs start to tremble as he moves, the rush of _Sokka_ in him, under him, causing the motion of his hips to stutter. 

The heat settles low in his stomach. It’s been too long, and Sokka’s making that face again, his brows furrowed and lips parted, focused on Zuko and Zuko alone—

He feels himself teeter on the edge.

“Sokka—I’m almost there; can you—”

“ _Anything_ ,” Sokka breathes. He plants his feet on the mattress, using the leverage to thrust up, matching Zuko's rhythm. He wraps his hand around Zuko’s cock again, stroking in time with his movements, and Zuko sways, his head tipping back. 

“Fuck, babe, you’re _gorgeous_ ,” Sokka rambles, looking up at Zuko like he hung all the stars in the sky. “I love you so much; you’re so fucking perfect, so good for me—”

Sokka twists his hand on the upstroke, his cock hitting the perfect spot.

Zuko _shakes._

This must be the feeling of a dying star, Zuko thinks dimly—it’s the feeling of light and heat exploding, bursting to form something new. He falls forward onto Sokka’s chest, gasping, completely overwhelmed by the arousal rushing through his veins. He might shout, he doesn't know—all he knows is that all of the light in the universe flashes before his eyes in a split second, then darkness settles over him as he gasps for breath.

He hears Sokka let out a curse, his hands splayed out against Zuko’s back, his hips stuttering. It takes barely a half-dozen thrusts before Sokka stills with a groan, his cock spilling warmth inside him. He smooths his hands down Zuko’s back, the touch warm and comforting as Zuko comes back from his high.

When Zuko opens his eyes, the room is dark. He blinks, rubbing at his good eye, before he notices the torches still smoking in their sconces.

"Did I—"

"You blew out all the torches, babe," Sokka says, grinning up at him. "That good, huh?"

Zuko huffs, unable to keep the corner of his lips from twitching up. He relights one torch with a wave of his hand, casting him and Sokka in a dim glow.

"It was passable."

Sokka snorts. "Passable, he says." Sokka taps at his hips, prompting Zuko to sit up, letting Sokka slip out of him with a hiss.

Zuko immediately collapses back onto Sokka’s chest. Sokka lets out an exaggerated " _oof_ ," but Zuko's too content to do anything but nuzzle into his shoulder. He feels drowsy and loose, even with the stickiness between them. 

Sokka nudges him again. “Hey. We have to clean up, Jerk Lord.”

“Jerk Lord’s not here right now; please try again later,” Zuko mumbles against his skin. He doesn’t think he has the energy to move, even if he wanted to—he feels uncoiled, all the tension in his body gone, leaving him a sleepy mess atop his boyfriend.

Sokka laughs. He kisses Zuko’s forehead, stroking his hand through his hair. “Alright, babe. Five minutes.”

“Or forever.” 

Sokka laughs again, and Zuko feels the rumble against his chest. “Sap. Are you reading romance plays again?”

“Shut up,” Zuko grumbles half-heartedly. He shuts his eyes, nuzzling closer. “Just hold me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sokka murmurs. He presses another kiss to his forehead, so softly Zuko isn’t sure whether he imagined it. 

Zuko hums in contentment anyway, already half-asleep. He drifts off to the feeling of Sokka’s hand on his back, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into Zuko’s scalp.

He dreams of stardust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluffy smut is the only smut i know how to write tbh
> 
> (also, subtle mention of it, but aro/ace toph rights)
> 
> drop me a comment if you'd like! :)


	6. Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally here! the last chapter!
> 
> once again, thanks so much to the amazing artist [@spacepuff39](https://spacepuff39.tumblr.com) and brilliant beta [@SinTheeUxho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snymph12) for their support of this fic. it was so much fun working with you both!<3
> 
> twist: sokka pov this time :)

_That we may fall in love_

_Every time we open up our eyes_

— Sleeping at Last, “Sun”

* * *

Sokka wakes a few hours before dawn. Anticipation and nerves kept him up that night, but despite the lack of sleep, he feels bursting with energy. Gently, he extricates himself from Zuko's arms, trying not to wake his boyfriend as he slips out of bed. 

Zuko's always been a light sleeper, but luckily, he just lets out a soft grumbling noise and curls back into the sheets. He always looks so soft in his sleep, the perpetual line between his brows and set to his jaw softened as he rests.

Sokka really wants nothing more than to get back in bed, curl up with Zuko for as long as his firebender can stay resting after the sun rises, but he has plans for this morning that he's spent far too long considering to abandon.

The heat from Ember Island envelops the room, mitigated only by the light breeze flowing in from the open window. The moon is nearly full tonight, illuminating the room in a soft glow. He waves up at Yue before he gathers his things and dresses as quickly as he can. Sokka glances at Zuko as he slips out of their room, smiling as he closes the door softly behind him.

He heads down to the kitchen, pulling out a wicker basket and blanket hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. He carefully packs in their small tea kettle, the container of Zuko's favorite treats from back in Caldera, and the tin jasmine tea Iroh had given him when Sokka asked for his blessing. He places a single fire lily over the top. After double and triple-checking the pocket of his pants and doing one more sweep over the kitchen, he decides to quit stalling and go wake his sleeping dragon.

When he gets back to their room, Zuko somehow has completely covered himself in the blankets, only a bit of black hair poking out from the top.

"Morning, babe!" Sokka says, pulling back the covers.

Zuko groans, opening an eye blearily. He glares at Sokka, but the effect is definitely dampened by how sleep-rumbled he looks. Sokka can't help but kiss his forehead.

"Want to go see the sunrise with me?"

" _Sokka,"_ Zuko says, his voice thick with sleep. He rolls over onto his side and snuggles back up to the blankets. "It's still dark, which means it's still technically night, which means that neither of us should be up. Come back to bed."

Wrapped up in the blankets, he looks as cozy and cute as a seal-puppy. Sokka almost feels bad for waking him.

Almost.

"Goodnight, then, your mighty jerkiness," Sokka says cheerfully. "Want to go see the sunrise with me?"

Zuko grumbles again, but at least looks more awake than he did before.

"Why?"

"C'mon, it'll be fun, babe!" Sokka raises the basket enticingly. "I even have the little honey cakes you like!"

"Is this punishment for all the times I woke you up at dawn?"

"Who's to say?" Sokka pulls back the covers again. Zuko sighs, but at least sits up. "Up and at 'em, Jerk Lord. I heard the view from the East Mountain is amazing."

Zuko runs a hand through the mess of his hair and stretches, raising his arms above his head. Sokka immediately remembers that they both went to bed naked, and the marks along his throat and the bruise he sucked into Zuko's hip are on full display.

"Although the view here is pretty amazing too," Sokka amends, noticing Zuko's satisfied grin at the statement. He stretches once more, showing off his arms and his wiry figure.

"We could stay in bed a little longer," Zuko suggests, his voice raspier than before. His eyes glint when Sokka swallows, drawing his eyes down his body. Spirits, how any man has a right to be this beautiful is beyond Sokka.

Sokka can't help himself from leaning down to kiss him. Zuko almost immediately deepens the kiss, tilting his head and pulling on Sokka's collar to draw him closer. Even with his morning breath, he tastes perfect, his lips and tongue and hands languid but overwhelming.

After a moment, Sokka forces himself to pull away, though the flush on Zuko's pale skin and the heavy-lidded glance he gives Sokka almost draws him back. Instead, he throws Zuko's robe at him and darts out the room.

"Wear clothes you can hike in!" He calls over his shoulder, hearing Zuko's muttered curses as he shuts the door to avoid temptation.

A short while later, Sokka has his boomerang attached to his back and sword and water flagons around his hips—even on a vacation, one can never be too prepared. 

Zuko emerges from their room looking much more awake. He's his common clothes, his hair in the half-up style he usually wears these days but without his crown. Even without it, the sharpness of his face and set of his shoulders set him apart. It may be Sokka’s oogies talking, but he’s one of the most gorgeous things Sokka’s ever seen.

Sokka can’t help but pull him into another kiss. He keeps it brief and gentle, resting his forehead against Zuko’s when he draws back.

Zuko finally pushes his back at arm’s length, his eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re acting weird.”

“Nothing!” Sokka says, his voice jumping. “You’re weird. Let’s go—can’t reschedule the sun, right?”

Zuko looks less than convinced.

“You’re telling me when we get back.” 

Sokka nods quickly, holding out his arm with a flourish. “Shall we, good sir?”

Zuko rolls his eyes but takes his hand, so Sokka counts it as a win.

They make it to the East Mountain trail quickly, the full moon lighting the way. It's bright enough to see without it, but Zuko keeps a tiny flame in his hand as they walk, the light casting his face in a warm glow. They hike in companionable silence, broken only by Sokka's tendency to make more puns than usual when he's nervous. Zuko laughs at some and rolls his eyes at others, but smiles nonetheless.

Finally, they make it to the viewpoint Sokka found right on schedule, just before the rays of dawn are set to appear over the ocean. He sets up the blanket on the grasses on the edge of the path with a flourish.

Zuko opens the basket, his soft smile at the fire lily a sight to behold. He sets the flower aside, his smile widening at the box with Deng's trademark lotus emblem and Iroh's tea.

"I would have brought the pastries you like, but I wasn't sure they would travel super well," Sokka says hastily.

Zuko shakes his head. "This is perfect, Sokka." He takes a honey cake for himself before passing the box over to Sokka, who does the same. As nervous as he is, he's never lost his appetite.

He watches as Zuko carefully measures out the jasmine tea into their mugs and holds the kettle in his hands. He takes several deep breaths, his hands starting to steam, and Sokka is transfixed like always with his mastery over his element before he recalls that Iroh would _not_ approve.

"I could make a fire. I know Iroh always says tea tastes better when made traditionally."

Zuko shakes his head, setting the now-whistling kettle down on a nearby stone. "It's fine. I don't have the energy for slow-brewed tea, anyway."

Sokka takes a sip from the offered mug, humming. "Well, it may be slightly oversteeped, but caffeine is caffeine. My palate is only slightly offended."

Zuko rolls his eyes. "Sometimes I worry you're spending too much time with Uncle."

"You're the one who got me hooked on this stuff, Your Jerkiness. This is on you."

Zuko shoves his shoulder but takes a sip of his tea, humming. The morning breeze catches on his hair, making it flow behind him in an ebony wave. He looks more peaceful now than he ever does in the palace.

Sokka really should take him on vacation more often.

After some time in companionable silence, the sky begins to redden, the sunlight reaching out across the water in a pale-pink glow. Zuko gasps as the light slowly brightens, turning from pink to greenish to finally golden as the sun appears over the horizon. It's truly majestic, and Sokka mentally cheers that his intel was correct.

"It's beautiful," Zuko murmurs, mouth open in awe.

Sokka lets himself get lost watching the light peak out from the horizon line and the way the rising sun paints Zuko in a soft glow.

 _No time like the present,_ he thinks, then pulls the necklace out of his pocket, carefully arranging the ribbon in his hand. He takes a deep breath, feeling somehow more nervous than he was trying to take down a whole Fire Nation air fleet at fifteen.

"I get why you woke me up so—" Zuko abruptly cuts off, staring down at Sokka's outstretched hand with wide eyes. He only looks like that when he's scared or overwhelmed or shocked, and Sokka's nerves increase tenfold.

He'd spent so much time trying to get the red dye to fade into blue, but now he notices that the purple overlap isn't perfectly in the center of the ribbon. Toph had helped him bend the stone out of her space rock, but the flecks of gold that were meant to be stars are slightly off too, and _oh Yue_ what if Zuko hates the sun and moon design—

Zuko still isn't saying anything, just staring at his hand with his eyes giant, and Sokka feels like he needs to explain or this is going to go south very quickly.

"So, I was trying to research traditions for engagement and the betrothal necklace was the only one I could find," he says. He can feel himself rambling but can't make himself stop. "It's mostly used for arranged marriages in the North and is only given to the bride to signify that she belongs to her husband, which is, like, complete bullshit. We definitely don't care about that down South—like, Bato made my dad his necklace and everything—but it's the only real tradition the Southern Water Tribe still practices from the North, and with the age of unity and everything, people are bringing it back more than ever."

He hands the necklace over to Zuko, who looks down on it as if it's something dangerous. Sokka can't bear to hear him say no, so he keeps talking, words spilling out of him like water from a faucet.

"Toph helped, somewhat, and I talked to Katara about it too. I was going to just carve the Fire Nation and Water Tribe insignias, but I didn't feel like that was personal enough, and you remind me of the sun and of course the moon is for me, so, yeah. I hope you like it."

Zuko keeps staring at the pendant in shock. His fingers trace the flames of the sun, the wave pattern carved into the moon. His hands are shaking slightly, enough that no one else would notice, but Sokka's been focused on him for some time.

"Are you—Is this..." Zuko says at last, his voice small. He trails off at the end, worrying at his lip between his teeth.

"It can be whatever you want it to be," Sokka says hastily, feeling his palms sweat. He wipes them on his pants. "I know that there are about a million political implications, especially if I’m going to be chief one day, and that a lot of your nation—and, frankly, the world—won't approve if we go fully public—"

"I don't care," Zuko interrupts. He holds the necklace carefully as if it might slip away. "I don't care about the rest of the world. I just—I love you."

Sokka nods, feeling a bit of hope. "I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. I told you before, I'm in it for the long haul, babe. Whether you want to just keep things the way they are, or just have it be a promise to ourselves, or have a private engagement with our friends—I'm game for whatever, as long as it's with you."

Zuko has moved that wide-eyed stare onto Sokka, his golden eyes blazing in the soft light of dawn.

"You still haven't proposed."

"Yeah. Yeah, let me..." Sokka sits up a bit, his hands shaking at his side. “Okay. Here it is. 

“Zuko, Fire Lord, jerkbender—you're my best friend and the love of my life, and I really want to build a life with you, even with all the political bullshit between us. I want to stay up late looking at the stars and wake up next to you every morning. I want to feed the turtleducks and go to plays with you and hear your commentary on everything the director did wrong. I want to take you back to our home in the South and keep you warm and introduce you to everyone we see as my husband. I want to be there when you’re sad and when you’re pissed off and I want to make you smile and laugh, even if it’s at me instead of at my jokes. I want to spend whatever moments we have left in this world with you, because you’re one of the best things the universe has ever made.”

Sokka takes a deep breath. Zuko’s eyes have gone a little watery, and he can’t quite tell if that’s a good thing or not, but he made it this far.

“So. Will you marry me?"

Sokka barely gets the words out before he's being tackled onto the blanket. Zuko kisses him desperately, his lips urgent and hands gripping Sokka's collar.

"So that's a yes?" Sokka says, pulling away for just a moment before Zuko makes a noise deep in his throat and kisses him again.

"Yes, yes, I'll marry you," Zuko says between scorching kisses. "I want this—I don't care what my ministers say, they can all fuck off—"

Sokka whoops, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together again. Zuko settles more firmly on top of him, slipping a leg between Sokka's. Sokka hears the clink of the teacups knocking over but couldn't care less about the potential damage. The kiss is messy and unskilled, and they're both smiling too wide, but it's maybe the best kiss Sokka's ever had.

After a while, Zuko sits back, still grinning wider than Sokka has seen him in a while, and raises the pendant in his hands—Sokka realizes that he held onto it this whole time—to his neck. As he fastens the clasp behind him, the golden light of the rising sun shines out from behind him, making the edges of his dark hair look as if they're catching flame. Sokka's breath catches in his throat. With his reddened lips and flushed cheeks and sunbeam-colored eyes, Zuko looks almost otherworldly, more radiant than all the stars in the night sky.

Zuko brushes his hair back over his shoulders and straightens the necklace, his fingers resting on the carving. He looks so perfect, and he's everything Sokka wants, and seeing his necklace on Zuko's neck and knowing that they're doing to get married fills him with way too many emotions that he doesn't know how to handle. Sokka feels his eyes getting misty, even with his smile, and Zuko looks like he might cry too.

"How does it look?" Zuko says, his words raspier than usual, and yeah, this was absolutely the right call.

"Spirits, babe—" Sokka shakes his head, his eyes wide. He sits up, tracing the length of the ribbon before pulling his boyfriend—his fiancé!—down for a quick kiss. "You have no idea how incredible you look. You could give Agni a run for his money."

Zuko rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling, so Sokka feels like he's in the clear.

"Seriously, Zuko. I could write whole poems about how beautiful you are right now. Like, here's something: _Golden eyes shining, smile bright as the rising sun, a fantastic ass_ — _"_

Zuko shoves him, his grin still present.

"You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously _in love_ with you—"

Zuko huffs. "I can't believe I'm going to marry you."

"Yeah, but you're going to."

"Yeah," Zuko says, his smile softening. "I'm going to."

Sokka melts. He wraps his arms around Zuko again, needing the grounding of his touch, before pulling back.

"Should I make you a necklace, too?" Zuko asks after a minute, touching the pendant like he can't believe it's there. "I don't know the protocol here."

Sokka shrugs. "You could, if you wanted to—"

"I do," Zuko interrupts quickly, fiery as ever.

Sokka nods, smiling. "Alright. Yeah, I’d love it. It's more traditional for one person to have one, but like I said, it's rooted in gendered, heteronormative bullshit.” He shrugs. “What’s the Fire Nation tradition, anyway? Do you light something on fire to prove that your love is _red-hot_?”

Zuko laughs. "Not anything that dramatic. For non-nobles, it's common to just give a token of your affection. For the royal family, it's the crown. But I don't think the flames would be right. I may have already been working on an...alternate design."

"Ooh, a special crown for me?" Sokka waggles his eyebrows. "Careful. People might think I'm important to you or something."

"You are," Zuko says, his voice low. "So much."

Sokka can't help but drag him into another kiss.

By the time they manage to settle down, the sun is much higher in the sky. Sokka can see small groups of vacationers at the beach below, lying on the sand and playing in the waves. Their snacks are mostly eaten—some of them may have gotten squished, but hey, they still taste good.

Sokka wipes his hands on the blanket and settles into Zuko's side. He turns and kisses Zuko's exposed collar bone just below the ribbon of his necklace.

"I'm so glad you said yes," Sokka says, resting his head on Zuko's shoulder. “I planned out the rest of the day in hour increments, but...would you be okay staying here? Just a little longer?”

“Are you going against your schedule?” Zuko asks drily. “Who are you and what have you done with my fiance?”

He makes no effort to get up, though. Instead, he draws Sokka closer, idly playing with the strands of hair that have escaped his wolf tail.

“You’re the best, babe,” Sokka says with a sigh. “I love you.”

Zuko hums. “You’re okay, I guess.”

“Hey!”

Zuko laughs, and it’s as if all the light in the universe has coalesced into one sound.

Sokka raises himself up, prepared to launch into a tirade, but he’s arrested by the way the sun glitters off of the pendant on Zuko’s neck, shining like a little star against his skin, only rivaled by the warmth in his amber eyes.

It’s poetic, Sokka supposes. His first love, over a decade ago, became the moon. Now, he gets to wake up every morning to the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i debated whether this was too cheesy of an ending, but honestly, life needs more cheese
> 
> thank you so, so much to everyone for reading this story!!! your support and comments meant a lot. i love and appreciate you all! <3


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